Roshniyon Ke Beech Tum 💫
ETF headquarters glowed in a way it never had before.
Usually, the glass walls reflected nothing but grey seriousness and the echo of boots on tiles. But today, soft strings of fairy lights wrapped around the pillars. Marigold garlands hung loosely by the doors. A faint scent of incense filled the corridors. Someone had placed diyas near the reception, their flames flickering against the polished floor.
Rathod entered first — crisp uniform, jaw set, coffee in hand. He froze mid-step.
“Yeh kya hai?” he muttered under his breath, staring at the garlands like they were explosives.
Behind him, Shree popped up from under a desk, hands covered in glitter.
“Sir! Surprise!”
Rathod: “Shree, tum bomb bana rahe the kya yahaan?”
Shree: “Nahi sir, bomb nahi — bomb decoration!”
He grinned sheepishly, pointing to a paper lantern dangling dangerously close to a ceiling fan.
A soft giggle came from the other end of the room.
Riya.
Dressed not in her usual shirts and jeans but a deep purple kurti with silver embroidery, dupatta carelessly falling off her shoulder. Her hair was open, curling naturally around her face. There was a faint shimmer on her skin — maybe from diyas, maybe from the morning itself.
“Sir, aaj office mein thoda festival mood laana zaroori tha,” she said, stepping forward with a thali of diyas.
Her bangles jingled as she moved.
Arjun: “Festival mood?”
His voice came from behind, deep and rough like always, cutting through the laughter.
Everyone turned.
There he was — ACP Arjun Suryakant Rawte — black shirt rolled up at the sleeves, jaw tense, eyes still carrying the weight of everything he’d seen. He looked at the decorations like they were distractions from his mission.
“Yeh sab zaroori nahi hai, Riya,” he said coldly.
“Case ke reports ready hai?”
Riya’s lips twitched.
“Sir, reports ready hai… lekin Diwali bhi toh ready honi chahiye, hai na?”
Chotu snorted from behind his monitor.
“Sir, aapko bhi thoda smile karna chahiye. Crackers se zyada dhamaka toh aap karte hain har roz.”
Even Rathod couldn’t suppress a smirk.
“Rawte, ek din ke liye thoda relax karlo. Case nahi bhaag raha.”
Arjun gave him a long glare.
But something softened — maybe it was the reflection of the diyas in Riya’s eyes.
He looked away first.
“Fine. Jo karna hai karo. Bas… safai theek se ho,” he muttered, walking to his cabin.
Riya smiled faintly, murmuring to herself,
“Aaj toh main aapke cabin mein bhi roshni leke jaungi, sir.”
***
The office had turned into a battlefield of light and laughter.
Chotu was struggling with a stubborn lantern. Shree had somehow tangled himself in fairy lights. Riya was laughing uncontrollably while helping them.
“Riya, tu bhi ek kaam kar — uss ladoo ke dabbe pe nazar rakh. Shree usse evidence samajh ke kha jaayega.”
Chotu joked.
“Kya yaar!” Shree protested, his mouth full already.
“Main toh test kar raha tha — quality check.”
Rathod shook his head, hiding a smile.
“Mujhe lagta hai hum sabko ek din ki chhutti milni chahiye. Tum log bachchon se kam nahi.”
Then Riya appeared at Arjun’s door.
She knocked softly.
He didn’t look up from his files.
“Come in,” he said without emotion.
She placed a small diya on his desk. The flame danced between them.
Arjun: “Maine mana kiya tha.”
Riya: “Pata hai. Par roshni aapke cabin mein bhi honi chahiye, sir.”
Arjun: finally looking at her “Aur agar main yeh bujha du?”
Riya: gently, eyes unwavering “Phir main phir se jala dungi.”
For a heartbeat, silence. The kind that burned more than the diya.
Arjun’s gaze flickered — from her eyes to the flame, and back again.
Something about her calmness unnerved him. She didn’t challenge him, but she didn’t back down either.
Arjun: “Tumhe hamesha har baat mein last word chahiye, Riya?”
Riya: “Nahi sir. Bas kabhi kabhi… chhoti si khushi bhi chahiye.”
He looked at her — really looked this time. The simplicity of her words cut through the armor he’d built.
Before he could respond, the intercom buzzed. Rathod’s voice filled the air:
“Sab conference room mein aa jao — abhi!”
***
The conference table was covered in — sweets.
Boxes upon boxes. Ladoos, kaju katli, barfis, chocolates — and diyas glowing at the corners.
Rathod: “Ab sab ek family ki tarah celebrate karenge. No work, no stress.”
Arjun: “Yeh sab Shree ne plan kiya?”
Shree: “Nahi sir, Riya ne. Hum toh bas helper the.”
Riya blushed faintly.
Arjun’s eyes softened almost imperceptibly.
As music played from Chotu’s phone, laughter filled the room. They played cards, teased each other, exchanged jokes that made Arjun roll his eyes but secretly hide a smile behind his coffee cup.
At one point, Riya tripped on her dupatta — and Arjun’s reflex caught her wrist before she could fall.
“Dhyaan kaha hai tumhara?” he muttered, voice low.
Her breath caught. His grip was firm, familiar. For a second, she forgot to blink.
“Aapke paas, sir,” she whispered before she realized what she’d said.
Arjun froze.
Rathod coughed loudly from behind, breaking the moment.
“Lovebirds, agar free ho jao toh fireworks ke liye terrace chalte hain.”
Riya flushed. Arjun cleared his throat and let go.
***
The night had settled, sky painted in a thousand sparks. The terrace overlooked Mumbai — endless lights mirroring the stars.
The team was laughing below, bursting crackers, taking pictures. But Arjun and Riya had drifted to the quieter corner — near the railing, where the sound of fireworks faded into the rhythm of their hearts.
Riya: “Kitni roshni hai aaj, na?”
Arjun: “Hmm.”
Riya: “Lagta hai Roshni ma’am bhi kahin yahin hai…”
He stiffened. Her voice softened.
“…aapko khush dekh ke khush.”
That single line hit him deep.
No one dared mention Roshni around him — but Riya did, gently, with reverence.
Arjun: “Main khush nahi ho sakta, Riya.”
Riya: “Ho sakte hain. Aapne khud ko band kar rakha hai. Par zindagi sirf dard nahi hoti.”
Arjun: “Tumhe lagta hai main bhool jaaun sab kuch?”
Riya: “Nahi, sir. Par kabhi kabhi… dard ke saath roshni bhi jala leni chahiye.”
Silence.
Only the sound of fireworks.
And then — a sudden spark burst near them, showering gold light. Reflexively, she flinched — and he stepped closer, his hand finding her arm protectively.
They froze like that — inches apart, bathed in golden shimmer.
Her breath was shallow. His heartbeat loud.
Riya: “Aapko pata hai… jab aap paas hote hain, darr bhi khubsurat lagta hai.”
Arjun: roughly “Riya…”
Riya: “Kya main aapke liye diya jala sakti hoon?”
Arjun: “Tum pehle hi mera andhera mita rahi ho.”
Their eyes met — intense, silent, and full of everything they never said.
He didn’t touch her face — just reached up, carefully fixing a strand of hair that the wind had played with. His fingers lingered a second too long. She closed her eyes.
Behind them, laughter, more fireworks — but for them, time stopped.
Arjun: “Tum pagal ho.”
Riya: smiling faintly “Aapke liye.”
***
Later that night, as everyone left, the office looked peaceful. Diyas still flickered. The city outside still glowed.
Riya stayed back to clean. Arjun appeared again, silently helping her.
She looked up.
“Sir, aap? Aapko toh ghar jaana chahiye.”
“Ghar?” he said quietly. “Ab woh yeh jagah hi toh hai.”
Something about his tone made her chest ache.
She smiled softly and placed the last diya near his desk.
“Ab poora hua,” she whispered.
“Ab roshni har jagah hai.”
He looked at her — really looked.
Then, without a word, he picked one diya and placed it near her table.
“Ab tumhare paas bhi.”
Their eyes met again — warm, silent, promising.
From outside, a firework burst — a thousand sparks painting the sky.
She smiled; he didn’t — but his eyes had softened, truly, for the first time.
As they stood there in that golden half-light, two wounded souls healing quietly in each other’s glow, one could almost hear the whisper of Roshni’s voice carried in the wind —
“Happy Diwali, Arjun.”
***
Next morning, the team entered the office, bleary-eyed, holding coffee.
And froze.
At the center table, two diyas still burned — one on Riya’s desk, one on Arjun’s — their flames perfectly balanced.
Shree grinned, whispering to Chotu,
“Ab toh sure hai — is baar sir ne Diwali dil se manayi.”
Rathod smirked knowingly.
“Lagta hai kuch roshniyan bujh nahi sakti.”
And somewhere in the corner, Arjun looked at Riya, his lips curving — just slightly, but unmistakably — into a smile.
~The End~
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