The alarm had been ringing for ten minutes, but Tara Mehra was still tangled in her blanket, lost in a dream where she was standing on a stage, wearing a glittering saree, and giving a grand speech about... something she couldn't quite remember. In the dream, everyone clapped for her, even the professors who usually scolded her.
"Tara!" Her mother's sharp voice sliced through the dream. "Do you plan to sleep your way through life? It's already eight o'clock!"
Tara's eyes snapped open. She shot up from bed, hair messy, eyes wide. "Oh no!" she groaned. "I'm late again!"
Before she could jump out of bed, her thirteen-year-old sister Riya peeked in, grinning wickedly. "Didi, you were talking in your sleep again. Something about... becoming Miss India?" She giggled, darting out before Tara could throw a pillow at her.
"Riya!" Tara shouted, half laughing, half annoyed.
Downstairs, the morning chaos had already begun. Her father, Rajesh Mehra, was adjusting his tie in front of the mirror, mumbling about deadlines at the bank. Her mother, Sunita, was clattering dishes in the kitchen, calling out reminders about tiffin, bus timings, and exams.
Tara rushed down, still tying her dupatta in a hurry.
Her mother narrowed her eyes. "Every day, same story! You'll never reach college on time, and then you'll blame me for not waking you!"
"Sorry, Ma," Tara said, stealing a piece of toast from the table.
"Not sorry-discipline!" Sunita scolded, but her voice softened the next second. "At least eat properly. Girls your age faint in classrooms."
Riya appeared again, munching an apple. "Girls your age also get married. Should we find you a groom, Didi?"
Tara gasped, throwing the toast at her. "Shut up, you little monster!" Their father chuckled behind his newspaper. For a moment, the house was filled with laughter-the kind that made walls feel like home.
---
By the time Tara reached college, the gates were already buzzing with students. She met her best friend, Ananya, at the entrance. Ananya was her partner in everything-from late-night gossip to skipping boring lectures.
"You're late. Again." Ananya grinned, linking her arm with Tara's.
"Don't remind me. I think Ma is ready to glue me to the alarm clock," Tara sighed dramatically.
The day unfolded in the usual way: boring lectures, whispered jokes, and dreams scribbled in the back of notebooks. But it wasn't all light. Tara, with her soft heart, often became the target of a group of seniors who found her innocence amusing.
"Hey, Miss Daydreamer," one of them sneered as she passed the canteen. "Still writing love poems for imaginary boys?" His friends laughed.
Tara flushed but didn't reply. She hated confrontation. Ananya, however, stepped forward, her eyes blazing. "At least her brain isn't empty like yours. Now move."
The boys muttered something but walked away. Tara tugged Ananya's hand. "Why do you always fight for me? I can handle it."
Ananya rolled her eyes. "Please, Tara. You'd probably apologize to them if they slapped you."
Tara laughed, the sound light and foolish. Maybe Ananya was right. Maybe she was too soft for this world. But she liked it that way. She liked living in a bubble where the biggest problems were exams, teasing seniors, and deciding which street stall had the best pani puri.
The golden sun dipped low over the campus, casting long shadows across the playground. Students sprawled across the benches and grass, laughing, gossiping, eating samosas from the canteen. Tara and Ananya sat under the neem tree, their bags tossed carelessly beside them.
Ananya stretched her legs and sighed. "Tara, tell me honestly... what kind of man do you want to marry?"
Tara blinked, surprised. "Marriage? Already? I'm only twenty!"
"Exactly!" Ananya giggled. "We need to start planning early, or your mother will marry you off to the first Sharma-ji-ka-beta who works in Dubai."
Tara laughed, plucking at the grass. "Hmm... I want someone kind. Someone who doesn't shout, who listens to me when I talk. Not like those arrogant boys in college."
Ananya smirked. "So basically... a saint? Good luck finding one."
"And you?" Tara shot back.
Ananya's eyes sparkled. "Rich. Handsome. And preferably owning a company where I don't have to work too hard."
Both burst into laughter, their voices mingling with the shouts of boys playing cricket nearby.
After a while, the conversation shifted, as it often did, to the future. "Which company do you want to join after graduation?" Ananya asked, resting her chin on her knees.
Tara thought for a moment. "Maybe a publishing house. Or an NGO. Somewhere peaceful. What about you?"
"Are you mad?" Ananya swatted her arm. "Peace doesn't pay bills! I want to join a big name. Like..." She paused, eyes lighting up. "Malik Enterprises."
Tara frowned. "Malik Enterprises?"
"Yes!" Ananya nodded eagerly. "Don't you know? It's one of the biggest firms in the country. They say the owner, Arjun Malik, is a billionaire. Young, powerful, brilliant... and apparently impossible to meet."
Tara raised her brows. "Sounds like a superhero. Or a villain."
Ananya grinned. "Who cares? His company pays interns three times more than others. If I get in, my life is set."
Tara shook her head, laughing at her friend's dreams. "Well, good luck. I'm sure he doesn't sit around reading internship applications."
They laughed together, but something about the name lingered in Tara's mind. Arjun Malik. She had never seen him, never heard much beyond whispers in the news, but the way Ananya spoke made him sound like a myth-a man too big, too powerful to exist in the same city as her.
The bell from the temple near the gate rang softly in the distance. Tara closed her eyes for a moment, letting the breeze brush her face. For her, the world was still simple-family, friends, and foolish dreams.
She didn't know that the man they were joking about, the one she thought was unreachable, had already painted the city red the previous night.
And one day soon, her path would cross his.
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