Chapter 1

Dandiya Dhamaka

Writer: minakrish | Graphicer: Bhavisweet03 | Theme: Navratri

This OS was the Winner in the Story Category and also, Contest Runners-up along with my friend, Bhavi (who made the beautiful cover) in the Mixed Bag of Celebrations Contest which was held in celebration of Barun and Sanaya's collaboration for Zouk Bags. Please do go over and check out the contest results.

The rhythmic beats of the dhol filled the air, reverberating across the open ground where the grand Navratri celebration was in full swing. Women in colorful lehengas twirled, their anklets jingling, while men in vibrant kurtas matched the steps with their dandiya sticks, the night alive with music and energy.

Khushi Kumari Gupta twirled effortlessly, losing herself in the infectious joy of the festival. Her face lit up with excitement as she moved gracefully to the garba beats, her dandiya sticks clinking perfectly with her partner’s. This was her night—one of her favorite festivals—where tradition, color, and music blended into a perfect harmony.

Little did she know that chaos was about to strike, quite literally.

Arnav Singh Raizada, on the other hand, wasn’t particularly thrilled to be there. Clad in a simple yet elegant kurta, he stood near the edge of the crowd, arms crossed, his jaw tight with impatience. If it weren’t for Anjali’s incessant nagging, he would’ve found a hundred other places to be. Navratri, with its loud music and over-enthusiastic dancers, was not his idea of a good time.

He had barely begun scanning the crowd when suddenly, whack—a sharp pain shot through his shoulder as something solid collided with him.

“What the—” Arnav spun around, glaring, his hand reflexively rubbing his shoulder.

“Hey, Devi Maiyya! Humein maaf kar dijiye.” Khushi gasped, eyes wide, her dandiya stick still raised. She had been too caught up in her dance and hadn’t noticed the tall, brooding man standing in her path.

Arnav's eyes narrowed as he recognized the voice, his irritation flaring. “You,” he muttered, his tone dripping with disdain.

Khushi's eyes widened looking at the man in front of her. She then blinked in confusion. “Hum? Humne kya kiya?”

“You hit me with that stupid stick of yours!” Arnav bit back, pointing at the offending dandiya in her hand.

Khushi glanced at her stick, then at him. “Jo bhi hua, galti se hua. You’re the one standing in the middle of the dance floor like a statue. Who does that during Navratri?”

“I wasn’t in the middle of anything!” he snapped. “You’re the one dancing like there’s no tomorrow, not paying attention to your surroundings, Khushi.”

Khushi huffed, and muttered under her breathe "Laad Governor", then crossing her arms, she said, “Well, it’s a festival! People are supposed to enjoy, not stand around like they’re at a business meeting!”

Arnav’s temper flared, but before he could retort, Anjali appeared, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Chhote! There you are! I’ve been looking for you. And, Khushi ji! What a coincidence, you’re here too!”

Khushi smiled brightly, but Arnav only grunted, clearly still annoyed.

Anjali's smile widened as she sensed the tension between them. “Why don’t you both join the dandiya raas together? It’s a night of celebration, after all.”

Khushi opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, Anjali grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the center of the dance circle. “Come on, Khushi ji! It’ll be fun!”

“Wait, Di, I—” Arnav tried to object, but Anjali’s plan was already in motion.

Within moments, Khushi and Arnav found themselves surrounded by enthusiastic dancers, the fast-paced beats of the garba growing louder. Khushi flashed him an apologetic smile, though there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Looks like we’re stuck.”

Arnav sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s just get this over with.”

As the music picked up tempo, Khushi twirled, her dandiya sticks clashing with Arnav’s, their movements awkward at first. Arnav, despite his reluctance, was surprisingly coordinated, but Khushi—well, she had a bit too much energy.

Whack.

“Ow!” Arnav winced as her stick caught his wrist this time. “Can you try not to injure me?”

Khushi bit her lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “It’s not my fault! Maybe you should learn to move faster!”

Arnav shot her a dark look, but before he could reply, Khushi’s stick flew wide again, nearly smacking him in the face. His reflexes saved him just in time.

“That’s it!” Arnav growled, grabbing her wrist mid-swing, forcing her to stop. “Are you trying to kill me with those things?”

Khushi’s eyes widened at his touch, and she tried to yank her hand free. “Let go, Arnav ji! You’re making it worse!”

“I’m making it worse?” Arnav’s grip loosened as he stared at her incredulously. “You’re the one who keeps—”

Before he could finish, crash—another dancer, lost in the fervor of the festival, bumped into Arnav from behind, pushing him directly into Khushi. The two of them stumbled, their sticks clattering to the ground as they found themselves in an awkward, tangled heap on the floor.

Laughter erupted around them as the dancers paused, watching the scene unfold.

Khushi groaned, her face flushed with embarrassment as she tried to push Arnav off her. “Great! Now everyone’s watching!”

Arnav, equally mortified, scrambled to his feet, his jaw tight. “This is all your fault,” he muttered under his breath, reaching down to help her up.

Khushi, still flustered, accepted his hand reluctantly. “How is this my fault? You’re the one who pulled me!”

“I wouldn’t have pulled you if you knew how to dance without attacking people!” Arnav shot back, his frustration mounting.

Khushi straightened her dupatta, glaring at him. “Maybe you should’ve stayed in your corner and avoided the dance floor entirely, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada!”

"Laad Governor kahin ke!" she mutter under her breath.

Arnav’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but before he could retort, the music resumed, and the dancers around them continued their garba without missing a beat. Khushi and Arnav, however, stood frozen, glaring at each other.

Anjali reappeared at the edge of the circle, a knowing smile on her lips. “Well, that was... eventful.”

Khushi huffed, crossing her arms. “I’m done with this. Navratri is supposed to be fun, not dangerous!”

Arnav smirked, his mood shifting slightly as he caught her eye. “You can’t handle a little competition, can you?”

Anjali shook her head in disbelief, with a smile playing on her lips and went back to join the dance.

Khushi shot him a sidelong glance, her lips twitching. “Oh, I can handle competition, Arnav ji. Just not with you.”

Arnav raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “Is that a challenge?”

Khushi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Maybe it is.”

Arnav stepped closer, his gaze locking with hers. The playful banter suddenly took on a more intense note, the distance between them shrinking. “You always seem to challenge me, Khushi. But what happens when I win?”

Khushi’s breath hitched slightly at the shift in his tone. She hadn’t expected the sudden change, and the way his eyes lingered on her made her pulse quicken. But Khushi being Khushi, she wouldn’t let him see her falter. “Who says you’ll win, Arnav ji? Hum aapko jeetne denge hi nahi.”

Arnav’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “I always do.”

Khushi’s heart skipped a beat, her defenses faltering just for a moment. His words hung in the air between them, charged with an unspoken tension.

She swallowed, her voice softening. “Maybe... this time, you won’t.”

For a moment, neither of them moved, and everything around them seemed to disappear. The pull between them was strong, and Khushi’s heart raced as they stood just inches apart, the festival's energy fading in comparison to the connection they felt.

Arnav’s gaze lingered on her lips for just a moment before he leaned in, his voice low. “I guess we’ll see.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, Arnav closed the remaining distance, leaning down and pressing a soft, unexpected kiss to her cheek. It was quick, just a brush of his lips, but enough to send a jolt through Khushi.

Her eyes widened in shock, her mind racing to catch up to what had just happened. She blinked, heat rising to her cheeks as she stared at him, completely speechless for once.

Arnav straightened, a smirk playing on his lips as he whispered, “Looks like I’ve already won.”

Khushi stood frozen for a moment, her heartbeat loud in her ears, before she finally found her voice. “A-apne... yeh kya kiya?”

Arnav’s smirk deepened. “Kyun? Tumhe nahi laga tha ke main jeet sakta hoon?”

Khushi’s hand instinctively flew to her cheek where his lips had been, her heart still racing. She wanted to protest, to argue, but all she could manage was a flustered, “Laad Governor!” before she spun around and hurried off, her steps quick as she disappeared into the crowd.

Arnav chuckled softly, watching her retreating figure. He didn’t have to say it out loud, but they both knew—this wasn’t the end of their little game.

-x-x-x-

^ Thank you Stuti for the lovely siggies.