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We can never dictate how others choose to treat us, nor can we align everyone else's actions with our own values. But the boundaries of our own peace belong entirely to us.

The morning sun felt uncomfortably harsh against Isha's face as she dragged her feet toward the local bus stop. Every step felt heavy, burdened by a sleepless night spent staring at the ceiling, listening to the suffocating silence of her home.

Riya was already standing there, casually leaning against the concrete pillar. The moment Isha stepped closer, Riya's sharp eyes scanned her face, instantly locking onto the dark, heavy circles bruising the skin under Isha's eyes.

"Aankhon ke neeche itne kaale jhaanhre pade hai... soyi nahi kya poori raat? Mujhe bohot off lag rahi hai tu aaj," Riya said, her voice dropping into an immediate tone of concern as she stepped forward.

("You've got such deep dark circles under your eyes... didn't you sleep at all last night? You're looking really off today.")

Isha let out a long, ragged breath, looking away toward the empty road.

"Haan... neend nahi aayi thi yaar bohot time tak."
("Yeah... I couldn't fall asleep for a very long time.")

"Kya hua?" Riya asked softly, placing a comforting hand on her arm.
("What happened?")

A bitter, humorless smile touched Isha's lips as she finally looked at her best friend. "Kya hona hai... sab kuch toh tumhein pata hai. Jaise noch rahe hain humein... the so-called 'apne'."
("What else could happen... you know everything anyway. They are literally tearing us apart piece by piece... our so-called 'own people'.")

Riya's expression hardened instantly. "Yaar... phir se kya kiya unhone?"
("Dude... what did they do this time?")

"Pata hai Riya, aajkal na... I am just fed up with all this intense drama that is going on," Isha confessed, her voice cracking slightly as the pent-up frustration spilled over.

"Ek din sab achha hota hai, aur dusre din main Maa ko pressure aur stress mein dekhti hoon. Aise kaunsi duniya hai jahan par main chain se jee sakti hoon? Log noch-noch ke khaana chahte hain humein... humari barbaadi ka intezaar karte hain. Why is the world filled with so much evil? Kya duniya mein conscience naam ki cheez nahi hai?"

("You know Riya, lately... I am just fed up with all this intense drama that is going on. One day everything seems fine, and the next day I see Mom buried under pressure and stress. What kind of world is this where I can live in peace? People just want to rip us apart and consume us... they are literally waiting for our destruction. Why is the world filled with so much evil? Is there no such thing as a conscience left in this world?")

She choked back a small sob, her eyes burning with fresh tears.

"Agar main kisi ko galti se bhi hurt kar doon, toh mera conscience mujhe jeena nahi deta bina sorry bole. Par log itna brutally safed jhoot kaise bol dete hain? Kya paisa hi sab kuch hota hai... rishte nahi?" She stopped abruptly, waving her hand in dismissal as a heavy sigh escaped her chest. "Rehne do... ab mujhe baat bhi nahi karni."

("If I hurt someone even by mistake, my conscience doesn't let me live without saying sorry. But how can people tell such brutally blatant lies? Is money really everything... do relationships mean nothing?" She stopped abruptly... "Let it be... I don't even want to talk about it anymore.")

Without a second thought, Riya stepped into her space, wrapping her arms tightly around Isha's trembling shoulders. She held her in a protective, grounding hug.

"Uss Shilpa Chachi ne kuch bola hai kya phir se?" Riya murmured against her hair.
("Did that Shilpa Chachi say something to you again?")

Isha rested her forehead against Riya's shoulder, her voice muffled. "Woh hamesha kuch na kuch bolti hi rehti hai."
("She is always saying one nasty thing or another.")

Riya pulled back just enough to look Isha in the eyes, her fiercely protective streak flaring up. "Uss chudail ki aisi ki taisi! Dafa karo use aur un sabhi ko jinhone tumhein hurt kiya hai."

("To hell with that witch! Just screw her and everyone else who has hurt you.")

Riya cupped Isha's face, her tone turning firm yet incredibly tender. "Dekh Isha, main ek baat clear kar deti hoon. Zaroori nahi ki hum achhe hain toh humein achhe log hi milenge. Tede log bhi milte hain, aur unke liye ungli tedi karni hi padti hai. Aur jo tum baar-baar unke actions ki wajah se itna effect hoti ho na... pehle isse band karna padega. You should be the anchor, Isha. Stop dwelling and sorrowing over why they did this to you."

("Look Isha, let me clear one thing up. It's not necessary that if we are good, we will only meet good people. We cross paths with crooked people too, and for them, you have to bend the rules. And the way you let yourself get so affected by their actions over and over again... you need to stop that first. You should be the anchor, Isha. Stop dwelling and sorrowing over why they did this to you.")

The heavy advice settled over Isha like a warm blanket. Realizing how incredibly lucky she was to have a rock like Riya in her life, Isha acknowledged it with a small, grateful nod. She leaned sideways, resting her head peacefully on Riya's shoulder as they waited for the bus, silently absorbing her friend's strength.

After sometime, back at the college campus, the heavy cloud of emotional trauma was violently replaced by the terrifying storm of academic reality. The dreaded third-semester examinations of the second year had officially commenced, and the atmosphere in the classroom was nothing short of a panic room.

"Yaar, CN ka syllabus toh pahad hai! Kaise finish karenge?!" Purvi wailed from her desk, staring at the massive syllabus copy like it was a death warrant.

("Dude, this Computer Networks syllabus is a mountain! How on earth are we going to finish it?!")

Riya, who was still trying to locate her own sanity after a chaotic morning, shrugged dramatically.

"Syllabus chhodo! Pehle textbook toh chahiye na humein. Chal, library jaa kar aate hain."

("Forget the syllabus! First, we actually need the textbook. Come on, let's go to the library and get it.")

In a frantic, pre-exam rush, Riya and Purvi sprinted to the library section. Spotting a thick, intimidating book with Computer Networks slapped across the cover, Riya confidently grabbed it off the shelf.

In her defense, the cover looked highly authoritative. In her extreme rush, her brain completely skipped over the tiny, crucial detail of the author's name. She blindly checked it out, and they rushed right back to the Computer Networks lecture hall.

Ten minutes later, the CN professor-a woman who possessed the terrifying superpower of spotting unprepared students from a mile away-strode into the room.

"Open page 256 of your textbooks, class," the professor commanded, her voice cutting through the chatter. Her eyes scanned the rows like a hawk before landing squarely on a very focused-looking Riya.

"Riya! Open your book and read out Question number 5 for the class."

"Yes, ma'am!" Riya replied confidently. She flipped her heavy textbook open to page 256, ready to dominate the classroom with her loud, clear reading voice.

She looked down at the page. Then she blinked.

She rubbed her eyes and looked again.
Page 256 was filled with dense paragraphs, complex architectural diagrams of internet protocols, and absolutely zero questions.

In fact, there wasn't a single question numbered 1 to 5 anywhere on the entire page spread.

A cold sweat broke out behind Riya's neck as the professor walked down the aisle, her heels clicking ominously against the floor.

"Where is the question, Riya? We are waiting," the professor said, stopping right beside her desk.

"Uh... ma'am..." Riya stuttered, sweating profusely as she flipped the pages back and forth. "There... there are no questions on page 256. It's just... diagrams."

The professor frowned deeply. She reached down, took the textbook from Riya's hands, and slammed it flat onto the desk. With a sharp, accusatory movement, the professor slammed her index finger onto the author's name printed boldly on the cover.

"Riya," the professor's voice dripped with dangerous sarcasm. "Where are the questions? This is Computer Networks by Kurose."

Riya stared blankly at the name. Kurose.
Her brain short-circuited. The prescribed textbook for their university syllabus was Computer Networks by Forouzan. She had literally brought an entirely different international edition textbook to class just days before the final university exams.

Feeling the entire classroom's eyes burning into her, Riya's internal panic button completely broke, causing her filter to drop entirely. Under the intense glare of the professor, she blurted out the first defensive thought that entered her head.

"Toh... Kurose se hi poocho na phir."
("Then... go ask Kurose only.")

The entire classroom went dead silent for exactly one second.

Purvi gasped, burying her face in her hands. Across the aisle, Yash's jaw literally dropped before a massive, uncontrollable grin split across his face.

"What did you just say?!" the professor roared, her face turning a vibrant shade of angry red. "You are just a few days away from your semester examinations, and you don't even know the correct textbook for Computer Networks?!
Kurose se poocho?! Is Kurose going to come and write your university paper, Miss Class Representative?!"

Riya looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

"You are completely irresponsible!" the professor continued her grand lecture, waving her hands in absolute exasperation.

"I am leaving you this time alone because I don't want to waste my lecture time on your cluelessness! Kal correct textbook lekar aana class mein! Otherwise, don't bother sitting in my room."

("Bring the correct textbook to class tomorrow! Otherwise, don't bother sitting in my room.")

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am," Riya mumbled, her face burning a deep, agonizing shade of crimson as the professor marched back to the blackboard.

The moment the professor turned her back, a loud, muffled snort echoed from the back row. Riya snapped her head around, her eyes flashing with pure fury.

Yash was practically vibrating with laughter, his hands pressed over his mouth as his shoulders shook violently. He caught her eye and gave her a spectacular, mocking salute, thoroughly enjoying her public humiliation.

Riya shot him a lethal, dagger-like glare that could have decapitated him on the spot.

Sitting next to Yash, Akshat gave him a hard nudge with his elbow. "Tu kyun hass raha hai? Bichari ko daat padi hai," Akshat whispered, trying to be the voice of reason.

("Why are you laughing? The poor girl just got scolded.")

Yash leaned back, his eyes still dancing with pure mischief as he looked at Riya's furious face. "Isliye toh! And wo bichari nahi hai" he chuckled softly.

("That's exactly and she is not some pitiful person")

From the bench behind them, Shivansh leaned forward, shaking his head with a knowing smirk.

"Inka cat and mouse khel aisa hi chalta rehta hai. Humein bas popcorn ke saath dekhna hai bas."

("Their cat and mouse game always goes on like this. We just need to watch it with a bucket of popcorn.")

Yash snapped his head around, his teasing smirk instantly flipping into a defensive glare as he pointed a finger at Shivansh.

"Tumhein bohot pata hai na? Aur woh jo tumhara aur Isha ka tota-toti ka game chal raha hai, uske baare mein baat karu main?"

("You seem to know a lot, don't you? And what about that lovebird game going on between you and Isha, should I talk about it?")

Shivansh's face went completely pale. Before Yash could utter another syllable, Shivansh lunged forward, physically clapping his hand tightly over Yash's mouth.

"Mooh band rakh apna!" Shivansh hissed desperately, locking Yash in a frantic headlock as Akshat stifled his own laughter.
("Keep your mouth shut!")

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