Crossover Fic - The Idiots' Club: Chapter 03(A) - PG:11 - Page 3

01

'Now, meri baat dhyan se sun. If you don't understand what the professor is saying, just copy it down anyway. Aur .. if you don't know any spelling, just write whatever you hear. But DO NOT miss a word. All clear?'

Jignesh adjusted his dark, heavy glasses and smiled at Randhir nervously.

Randhir smiled back too (as much as it was possible for him to smile) and patted him on the back absently. 'Thanks yaar,' but he was already thinking if he could get a permit of a tape recorder for the coming weeks.

As a part of their suspension, the dean had also asked them to repair the lab, which included redoing the external wiring on one of the walls and the model project given to the first years students - which had been reduced to a heap of charred metal - but what made the whole thing worse was he wasn't going to be doing that alone.

He walked towards the dean's office thinking about the two weeks ahead of him and collided with the primary object of his thoughts.

Sanyukta Agarwal looked angry, frustrated, depressed .. and very, very irritated. Her irritation increased exponentially the moment she saw him.

She looked like she was going to start hitting him any moment (and frankly, he wouldn't have been surprised), but she stomped her feet inside - narrowly missing his - and strode off in the opposite direction.

This kind of encounter wasn't unusual; this was the only kind of encounter they had between themselves, and he knocked on the door.

Vardhaan Sir was reading a book when he poked his head in.

'I was wondering, Sir .. if tape recorders could be allowed in the class for these two weeks?'

'And here I thought a brilliant student like you would know the point of this suspension. Get out.'

Great. He turned to leave, but Vardhaan Sir spoke up again, almost in an afterthought.

'For two people who argue all the time, I must say I'm surprised at how similar your thoughts are.'

'Huh?'

'Sanyukta came here two minutes ago asking the same question,' Vardhaan closed the book and leaned forward, 'or tell me, did you two have a discussion together and thought I wouldn't say no both times?'

Randhir's annoyance peaked.

'With all due respect Sir, Sanyukta and I aren't exactly on discussing terms.'

He thought Vardhaan looked like he'd just heard something amusing, but he had already resumed his reading and Randhir closed the door behind him.

...

Ferns&Petals

0839-14782

Arnav looked at the pinkish, floral card in disgust and punched the numbers. It was ten o'clock in the morning, he had back to back meetings till five in the evening, a conference call scheduled at five thirty, then a site inspection for the new storehouse. And he was ordering pink tulips to kick start the day.

His sister had been sneaky about it too. He hadn't even noticed when Anjali had slipped the card inside his Filofax that morning during breakfast.

What was more, they weren't for her. Or for any of his family members, for that matter.

It was for his soon to be wife.

The thought brought on an onslaught of emotions, and he looked out at the spectacular view of Connaught Place from his office.

'Ferns & Petals. How may I help you.'

'I .. uh, need two dozens of pink tulips.'

'Specifications?'

'What?'

'I meant the accessories.'

'What accessories?'

The voice on the other side was quiet for a minute before she spoke up again. 'Wife, girlfriend, or family?'

'Just add whatever looks good!' he barked before disconnecting disgustedly.

Three seconds later, his phone rang.

'What?'

'Sir,' the voice sounded meeker than before, even though it had been taught to deal with all kinds of customers, and she faltered a moment at the sound of his gruff voice, 'I am going to need an address.'

'D Block, ***, Connaught Place.'

'Name?'

'Raizada.'

'I meant the name on the card. The card which will be sent with the bouquet, which-

'Khushi.'

Her name sounded foreign. It had always been her and she because he didn't like starting a conversation about her himself. He repeated again, this time more for himself. 'Khushi.'

'Any messages?'

Arnav sighed. He should have just asked Aman.

'With .. best wishes.'

'Right. Thank you, Sir.'

...

Aman is Arnav's secretary (which is really an understatement, though 🤣 )