62

Tara was deep in her notes, her eyes scanning the screen while she absentmindedly scribbled down points in her notebook. The quiet hum of her heater was the only background noise in her studio until—

Ping. Ping. Ping.

Her phone screen lit up with a flood of messages from the group chat. She sighed, leaning back in her chair and picking it up.

Aisha: GUYS, BIG NEWS. Cultural Day tomorrow!!!

Kabir: Damn, already? Didn't we just have one?

Aisha: That was last semester, idiot. In year 2.

Tara: Wait, we're going?

Aisha: Of course we are. Also, we're performing.

Tara blinked. Performing?

Tara: Who on earth is gonna memorize a dance in one day???

Aisha: Arre, it's the same one we did last time! You already know the steps, just a little brush-up and we're set.

Tara: You're mad.

Aisha: That's besides the point. Also, wear a saree or a lehenga.

Tara frowned, staring at her closet. A saree or lehenga? She hadn't even thought about that.

Tara: I don't even know if I have one here.

Aisha: Check and let me know ASAP.

Rolling her eyes at the urgency, Tara got up and rummaged through her closet. After shifting around some old clothes and a few winter sweaters, she finally pulled out a beautiful navy-blue saree with delicate silver embroidery. She held it up, examining it under the light. It was elegant yet simple. Okay, this could work.

Tara: Found a saree.

Aisha: Yesss, you'll look so good!!

Meanwhile, the guys had jumped into the chat, talking about their own outfits.

Kabir: Boys, what's the dress code?

Aryan: Kurta, I guess?

Rohan: Do we HAVE to wear a kurta?

Aisha: YES, shut up.

Aryan: Mine's at home.

Aria: You say that as if you don't have 50 clothes stored in your studio.

Aryan: First of all, rude. Second of all, fine, I'll find one.

Aisha: Good. Now everyone go sleep so we look presentable tomorrow.

Tara shook her head with a small smile, setting her phone down. A saree. A dance. A full cultural event. She had no idea how she'd manage, but somehow, she knew Aisha wouldn't let her back out.

~•~

The morning sunlight streamed through the blinds as Tara stretched, still groggy from sleep. The realization hit her—Cultural Day. She groaned, rubbing her eyes before dragging herself out of bed.

After a long shower, she felt more awake. She towel-dried her hair, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Okay, saree time.

She pulled out the navy-blue saree with silver embroidery, admiring it for a second before attempting to drape it. It started off fine—pleats, check. But then the fabric wouldn't sit right, the pleats refused to stay in place, and the pallu was a complete disaster.

She let out a frustrated sigh, staring at herself in the mirror. What now?

Without thinking, she grabbed her phone and typed into the group chat:

Tara: I need help with saree. Help.

She hit send, assuming Aisha would reply. But before she could even process a response, there was a knock at her door.

Confused, she padded over and opened it—only to find Aryan standing there.

Tara blinked. "What are you doing here?"

Aryan smirked, holding up his phone. "You needed help with your saree?"

Tara frowned in confusion before her eyes widened in horror. "Oh God. That was only for Aisha! I don't know why I sent it in the group!"

Aryan chuckled. "Blessing in disguise." He leaned against the doorframe. "Can I help?"

She crossed her arms. "You don't even know how to drape a saree."

Aryan grinned. "I don't. But—" He stepped aside, and Tara followed his movement—her breath catching when she saw who was standing behind him.

Meeta.

Tara froze, completely caught off guard. Meeta gave her a soft smile. "I'll help you, beta. Come."

Tara nodded, still processing what was happening, and stepped back to let them in. Aryan stayed near the door, watching as Meeta moved towards Tara's saree.

With practiced ease, Meeta adjusted the pleats, smoothing them down and tucking them in neatly. Her hands were gentle yet firm, her movements precise.

"This color suits you," Meeta said softly, draping the pallu over Tara's shoulder just right.

Tara, still a bit stunned, just nodded. "Thank you, aunty."

Aryan, standing in the background, smiled as he watched the scene unfold. He quickly and discreetly took a picture—his mom and his girl, together.

For the first time, it felt like things were falling into place.

~•~

Tara stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the pleats of her saree one last time. Her reflection stared back at her—navy-blue silk draped elegantly, the silver embroidery catching the light. The fitted blouse hugged her frame, its sleeves stopping just above her elbows, delicate yet striking. Her long hair was curled at the ends, cascading down her back, and a small bindi adorned her forehead.

She reached for her phone, tilting her head slightly before snapping a quick picture. A small smile tugged at her lips.

Just then, her phone buzzed.

Aisha: Bro, we've all reached uni. Where are you?

Tara quickly typed back.

Tara: Coming, coming!

Grabbing her phone, she slipped on a pair of silver bangles that jingled softly as she moved. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of her studio and made her way toward campus.

Tara stepped into the university's main garden, the lively chatter and bursts of laughter filling the air. The cultural day was in full swing—stalls lined the paths, displaying handmade crafts, intricate henna designs, and trays of steaming street food. The stage in the center was being set up for performances, the music already buzzing through the speakers.

As she walked in, adjusting the drape of her saree, she felt the shift in energy almost immediately. Heads turned. People glanced. But it was the reaction from her own friends that made her pause.

Aisha was the first to react. Her jaw literally dropped as she looked at Tara from head to toe. "Bro." Aisha grabbed Aisha's arm dramatically. "Tell me I'm not seeing a literal goddess right now."

Aria gasped. "Are you kidding me? Tara, you look—wow. Like, actual wow."

Rohan, who was sipping chai, joined in. "Yeah! Dude you look amazing. Like—damn."

Aakash, ever the smooth talker, smirked. "Oxford was not ready for this saree moment."

Tara rolled her eyes, a little embarrassed. "Guys, please, it's just a saree."

"Just a saree?" Aisha scoffed. "That's like saying the Mona Lisa is just a painting."

Everyone was showering her with compliments, but there was one reaction she hadn't heard yet.

Aryan.

She glanced toward him, finding him standing slightly apart from the group. Unlike the others, he didn't say a word. He just looked.

His dark eyes traveled over her, taking in every detail—the way the fabric hugged her frame, the delicate shimmer of silver embroidery, the way the kajal made her eyes stand out even more. He didn't speak, but his gaze said everything.

Tara felt her breath hitch slightly under his stare. She quickly looked away, pretending to adjust her bangles.

Aisha, meanwhile, had caught Aryan's silence and grinned mischievously as she scouted near him and whispered. "Okay, why is loverboy awfully quiet?"

Aryan blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. "What?"

"You've been staring at her for the past thirty seconds," Aisha teased.

He rolled his eyes. "Relax." Then, with a small smirk, he said, "She looks... good."

Aisha raised an eyebrow. "Good? That's all you've got?"

Aryan chuckled, stepping a little closer. His voice dropped just enough for only Tara to hear along with Aisha. "She know exactly how she looks. And how I see her. She looks heavenly."

Tara swallowed, feeling her heart race at the intensity of his gaze. Before she could react, Aisha clapped her hands. "Alright, alright! Enough blushing, Miss Saree Queen. We have a dance to perform. Let's go!"

Tara exhaled, shaking her head at her friends, and followed them toward the performance area. But even as she moved away, she could still feel Aryan's eyes lingering on her.

💜