The camp was wrapped in silence, save for the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional crackle of a dying lantern flame. The sky was still painted in deep hues of indigo, the first hints of dawn yet to break. While the rest of the trainees remained in deep slumber, Naina's eyes fluttered open, an odd restlessness settling in her chest.
No matter how much she tossed and turned, sleep wouldn't come.
Sighing, she pushed aside the rough woolen blanket and quietly slipped out of the tent. The early morning air was cool against her skin, and a faint mist curled over the ground. She hadn't planned on wandering too farâjust a short walk to clear her thoughts. But then, she saw him.
Karan Thakur.
He was running laps around the vast training ground, his movements precise, his breaths controlled, his strides sharp and fast. His shirt clung to his back, damp from exertion, and yet there wasn't a single sign of exhaustion on his face. His focus was unwavering, his discipline unshaken, as if the world beyond his routine didn't exist.
A slow smile tugged at Naina's lips.
For the past few days, she had only seen this man as her strict, cold instructorâthe one who never smiled, never faltered, never let them catch a moment's break. But now, watching him in his own world, she saw something else. A man who had given his life to discipline, to routine, to an unwavering sense of duty.
And that made her want to tease him.
If he could train even on a holiday, why couldn't she have a little fun?
Before she could talk herself out of it, she tied her long hair up in a quick bun and, without a second thought, ran forwardâstraight onto the track beside him.
For a few seconds, he didn't notice. He was too immersed in his rhythm. But then, from the corner of his eye, he caught the movement.
His brows furrowed as he turned his head ever so slightly.
"Tum yahan kya kar rahi ho?" His voice was clipped, sharp.
Naina only grinned. "Daud rahi hoon. Aap jaise."
Karan's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, returning his focus to the track ahead.
Taking that as a challenge, Naina picked up her speed, matching his pace. "Akele daudne mein kya maza? Chalne dijiye na mujhe bhi aapke saath," she chirped, casting him a sideways glance.
"Tumhari chhutti hai. Jaake so jao," he muttered, clearly not interested in entertaining her antics.
"Mujhe neend nahi aa rahi," she countered easily. "Aur waise bhi, agar ek sipahi ko majboot banna hai, toh usse apne adhyaapak ka anukaran karna chahiye na?"
His jaw clenched. He didn't like unnecessary talk, that much was clear. But Naina? She had made it her mission to get a reaction out of him.
She pushed ahead, increasing her speed until she was just a step ahead of him. Then, with a teasing smirk, she called over her shoulderâ
"Kya baat hai, adhyaapak ji? Aap peeche reh gaye?"
Karan's pace didn't falter, but there was a flicker of something in his gazeâannoyance, amusement, or maybe even challenge.
Naina grinned. She had his attention now.
Karan didn't reply, but Naina could feel his gaze on herâsharp, calculating. He wasn't the kind of man to rise to provocation so easily. Still, something in his stride shifted, a silent acceptance of the challenge she had thrown at him.
Naina smirked to herself and picked up her pace, her feet barely making a sound against the packed dirt of the track. The cool morning air rushed against her face, strands of her hair slipping loose from her bun. She had no intention of actually outrunning himâonly of teasing him enough to make him react.
For a few minutes, they ran in silence.
Naina stole a sideways glance at Karan. His breathing was still steady, his expression unchanged, as if the increased speed didn't bother him in the slightest.
Not one to back down easily, she added, "Mujhe laga tha ki aap fauj ke sabse tez daudne waale sipahi honge, par lagta hai mujhe galat bola gaya tha." Her voice was light, teasing, deliberately provocative.
Still, Karan didn't respond.
Annoyed by his lack of reaction, Naina huffed and took a daring step ahead of him. "Agar main pehle daud poori kar loon toh kya mujhe ek din ki chhutti milegi?" she asked, grinning.
That finally made him react.
Before she could even process what was happening, Karan smoothly picked up speed, overtaking her within a matter of seconds. His strides were powerful, effortless, as if he had been holding back all along.
Naina's eyes widened. "Areyâye toh cheating hai!" she called out, half-laughing, half-out of breath as she struggled to keep up.
Karan didn't slow down. Instead, he threw her a glance over his shoulder, his voice finally breaking the silence.
"Daudne aayi ho, toh daudna seekho, Naina Rao."
And just like that, he left her behind, his form cutting through the dim morning light like a force of nature.
Naina groaned, bending over with her hands on her knees. "Yeh aadmi insaan hai bhi ya nahi?" she muttered under her breath.
As she stood there, watching him disappear into the distance, she couldn't help but smile to herself. Maybe she had lost this time, but she had gotten exactly what she wantedâhis attention.
And something told her she'd find more ways to challenge him soon enough.
The evening sky was painted in hues of deep orange and fading purple as the trainees gathered in the open field, setting up a large pile of dry wood and twigs for the Holika Dahan. The atmosphere was different from the usual discipline and rigidity of the campâthere was an air of excitement, a rare ease in the faces of the recruits who had spent the past days under grueling training.
Naina wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, pushing back the stray strands of hair that had fallen loose from her bun. She had been working with the others to arrange the firewood properly, ensuring it would burn steadily through the night.
"Bas bas, itna kaafi hai," Kaveri said, dusting off her hands. "Agar aur daalenge toh poora camp hi jal jayega!"
A few trainees chuckled at that, but Naina only smirked, adjusting one of the larger logs. "Agar jal bhi gaya toh kam se kam yeh laathi-ghumaane waali zindagi se chhutkara toh milega."
"Kya tum sach mein fauj se bhaagna chahti ho?" one of the girls, Meena, asked, raising an eyebrow.
Naina hesitated for just a second before shaking her head. "Bhaagna nahi, bas... kabhi kabhi mann karta hai ki zindagi thodi aasan ho."
Before anyone could respond, a voice cut through their conversation.
"Sab tayyar hai?"
The moment Karan's voice rang out, the air shifted. The playful energy dimmed slightly, replaced by an instinctive straightening of backs and lowered gazes. Even during a festival, his presence commanded attention.
Naina, however, did not look away.
Karan's sharp eyes scanned the woodpile, assessing their work. After a moment, he gave a curt nod. "Holi ka agni sanskar suryast ke turant baad hoga. Sabhi trainees taiyaar rahein."
As he turned to leave, his gaze briefly met Naina's. It was just a fleeting glance, but she caught the hint of something in his expressionâapproval, perhaps?
Before she could overanalyze it, he was gone.
Kaveri nudged her. "Tumhaari nazar kam hoti ja rahi hai ya mujhe lag raha hai ki Commander tumse zyada impress ho rahe hain?"
Naina rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. "Bas mann ki baat kar rahe hain," she said, smirking.
With the bonfire set and the festival night approaching, she could feel an unfamiliar anticipation bubbling inside her. This wasn't like any other evening in the camp.
Tonight, they weren't just soldiers in training.
Tonight, they were simply people, celebrating a festival that had been part of their lives long before duty and discipline had taken over.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the training ground was illuminated by the soft glow of oil lamps and torches. The large pile of wood and twigs stood at the center, waiting to be set ablaze. The trainees, along with a few senior officers, had gathered in a circle around it, their faces reflecting a mix of reverence and quiet excitement.
The festival of Holika Dahan was not just about celebration; it was a ritual of burning away the old, of symbolizing the victory of good over evil. Even in a place as harsh as a military camp, traditions held their place.
A priest from the nearby village had been called to perform the prayers. He stood at the front, his saffron dhoti and rudraksha mala giving him a presence of wisdom and divinity. Holding a brass plate filled with turmeric, vermillion, rice, and sacred water, he looked at the assembled trainees.
"Aaj ki raat Holika Dahan hai," he began in a deep voice, the weight of history carried in his tone. "Aag ke iss sanskar mein hum apni buraiyon ko, apne dar ko, apni kamzori ko aahuti dete hain. Taaki naye savere ke saath naye sankalpon ka janm ho."
The words resonated with Naina. She stared at the unlit bonfire, feeling as if the priest was speaking directly to her. Weakness, fear, self-doubtâweren't these the very things holding her back? Wasn't that what Karan had seen in her when he had scolded her during training?
One by one, the trainees stepped forward to offer their prayers. Each took a pinch of turmeric and vermillion, whispering their hopes and letting the fire accept their silent vows.
Naina watched as Kaveri stepped forward, closing her eyes in prayer before placing her offering onto the woodpile. Then came Meena, followed by others, each carrying their own thoughts, their own burdens.
When it was Naina's turn, she hesitated for a moment before stepping up. She bent down, touching the dry grass and twigs, whispering under her breath.
"Agar yeh aag sach mein buraiyon ko jala sakti hai..." she murmured so softly that only she could hear, "Toh mere andar ki kamzori ko bhi iss mein sama do."
She placed the offering down and stepped back, inhaling deeply.
Finally, Karan and the senior officers stepped forward. Unlike the trainees, they did not close their eyes or whisper silent prayers, but their movements were solemn, respectful. When Karan placed his offering, his face remained impassive, unreadable as ever.
With all prayers completed, the priest lifted a burning torch and held it high.
"Jai Agni Dev!" he chanted, before lowering the flame to the pile.
The fire caught instantly, roaring to life, its golden light reflecting in every pair of eyes gathered around it. Sparks danced into the night sky as the dry wood crackled, sending waves of heat outward.
Naina stared into the flames, watching them consume the wood, turning it to embers and ashes. A strange sense of peace settled within her.
Tomorrow, the colors of Holi would mark a new day, a day of laughter, of celebration. But tonight, beneath the watchful eyes of the fire, something within her felt lighterâlike a burden she hadn't even realized she was carrying had begun to burn away.
The soft hues of dawn painted the sky in shades of amber and lilac as Naina stirred from her sleep. The camp remained blanketed in silence, the other trainees still in deep slumber after the previous night's Holika Dahan. But just like the morning before, her eyes opened on their own, as if her body had already adjusted to waking up at this hour.
A cool breeze whispered through the camp as she stepped out of her tent, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. And there he was.
Karan.
Running laps around the training ground, just like yesterday. His movements were precise, his breaths steady, each stride as sharp as the discipline ingrained in him. His expression was unreadable, focused on his own rhythm, his own world.
A slow smirk curled at Naina's lips.
"Toh phir, ek baar phir se?" she mused to herself, an idea already forming in her mind.
She turned back toward her tent, carefully tiptoeing inside without making a sound. From the small cloth pouch near her bedding, she grabbed a handful of gulalâthe vibrant red color soft and light in her palm. She had saved it for later, but now, it had a far better purpose.
Stuffing the powdered color into her fist, she dashed toward the training ground, careful to keep her movements light, her footfalls soundless. The trick was to not alert him.
Karan was still running, his sharp eyes scanning ahead, but he hadn't noticed her yet. She waited, matching his pace from a short distance, making sure the gulal remained hidden in her grasp.
Finally, he slowed, his breathing even but deep. As if sensing her presence, he turned slightlyâjust enough to glance at her from the corner of his eye.
Naina took her chance.
With a swift motion, she lunged forward and smeared the red color across his cheek, dragging her hand across his jaw before stepping back in victory.
For a brief moment, the world seemed to still.
Karan froze. His eyes flickered with something unreadableâshock, perhaps, or maybe disbelief at her audacity. The stark red against his otherwise serious face made the sight even more absurd.
Naina grinned mischievously, stepping back quickly. "Bura na maano, Holi hai!" she chirped, eyes glinting with amusement.
Karan exhaled sharply, his fingers brushing against his colored cheek. His face remained serious for another second, as if he were debating how to react.
And then, his lips twitched.
A rare, fleeting smile broke onto his face. It was small at firstâjust a ghost of amusementâbut then it deepened, a true and unguarded expression, one she had never seen before.
Before she could fully process it, he moved.
Naina yelped and spun on her heel, darting away before he could grab her. "Agar himmat hai toh pakad ke dikhao, Commander!" she laughed, tossing a glance over her shoulder.
Karan didn't waste a second. He was fastâfaster than she had anticipated. His strides were powerful, determined, and within moments, he was closing the gap between them.
Her heartbeat quickened, half from running, half from the unexpected thrill of the chase. The once-serious Karan Thakur, the strict commander who rarely smiled, was now sprinting after her, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Naina!" His voice rang out, but she only laughed, increasing her speed.
The morning air was filled with the sounds of their footsteps, of light laughter, of a chase that neither had expected but both were completely lost in.
The crisp morning air rang with the sounds of hurried footsteps and laughterâa rare combination in the otherwise disciplined military camp. The rhythmic pounding of boots against the earth, Naina's teasing giggles, and Karan's determined chase had broken the usual silence of dawn.
Inside the tents, the trainees stirred. A few groaned, irritated by the disturbance, but as the realization dawned that something unusual was happening outside, heads began to poke out from behind the tent flaps.
Kaveri was the first to step out fully, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Ye shor kis baat ka hai?" she mumbled, squinting at the scene before her.
Her eyes widened instantly.
Naina, breathless and still laughing, was sprinting across the camp with a very serious-looking Karan Thakur on her heelsâhis once-pristine face now streaked with red gulal.
More trainees emerged, murmuring in surprise. Within moments, the entire batch stood frozen, watching the impossible unfold.
Even some of the senior officers who had been preparing for their own morning drills came to an abrupt halt. Among them, Captain Jain frowned in disbelief. "Kya main sapna dekh raha hoon?" he muttered under his breath.
The Karan Thakurâthe man who never wasted a single second in idle behavior, who upheld discipline like a sacred dutyâwas chasing a recruit. Not for failing in training. Not for disobedience. But because she had dared to put color on him.
Jain let out a low chuckle, nudging the officer beside him. "Mujhe toh laga Thakur sahib Holi nahi manate."
"Mante bhi nahi the," the other officer replied, equally astounded. "Lekin lagta hai aaj kisi ne unke saath zabardasti kar di."
The murmur of amusement spread through the camp, but nobody dared to interrupt.
Meanwhile, Naina darted past a group of stunned soldiers, turning just enough to glance over her shoulder. "Bas itna hi tez daud sakte ho, Commander?" she called out, smirking.
Karan's jaw clenched, but his lips twitchedâjust for a fraction of a second. He didn't reply, only increased his speed.
A collective gasp went through the watching crowd.
"Ab toh Naina gayi," someone whispered.
Naina barely had time to react before a firm grip caught her wrist, halting her mid-step. She let out a startled yelp as she was pulled back with controlled force. In a blink, she found herself mere inches from Karan, his grip tight but not painful, his breath steady despite the chase.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
His face was unreadable, the red gulal still stark against his sharp features. His dark eyes held something she couldn't quite decipherâsomething unfamiliar, something intense.
Naina's chest heaved from running, but she managed to grin despite the situation. "Toh... pakad liya?" she asked, breathlessly.
Karan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. Then, before she could process it, he raised his free hand, fingers dusted with the same red gulal she had thrown on him.
Naina's eyes widened. "Ruko, rukoâ"
But it was too late.
With a swift, decisive motion, Karan ran his hand across her cheek, smearing the red powder along her jawline in an almost deliberate stroke.
A stunned silence fell over the camp.
Every single trainee, every senior officer watching, held their breath. Karan Thakur had willingly put color on someone.
Jain let out a low whistle. "Holi ka asar dekh rahe ho?" he muttered to another officer. "Aaj sach mein naye rang chhup gaye hain Thakur ke andar."
For a moment, Naina just stood there, feeling the warmth of his touch even through the thin layer of gulal. She blinked up at him, searching his face for a reaction.
And there it was.
That fleeting, almost imperceptible smile.
It was gone as quickly as it came, but she had seen it. And judging by the murmurs around them, she wasn't the only one.
Karan cleared his throat, stepping back as if remembering himself. His usual mask of discipline slid back into place. "Sab apni tayari karo," he commanded, voice firm again. "Aaj chhutti hai iska matlab yeh nahi ki camp ke niyam bhul jao."
The trainees scrambled, pretending as if they hadn't been gawking at the rare sight.
As the camp slowly returned to motion, Kaveri appeared at Naina's side, whispering in her ear. "Kya kar diya tune?"
Naina grinned, still feeling the remnants of Karan's touch on her skin. "Bas thoda rang lagaya."
Kaveri chuckled. "Naina, tune toh poore camp ka rang badal diya."
The sun had begun its slow ascent, casting a warm golden hue over the camp. The festive energy still lingered in the air, even as the trainees dispersed to prepare for the day. Karan Thakur, however, walked back to his tent with his usual composed strideâshoulders squared, face unreadable, steps precise.
Yet, the moment he entered his tent and pulled the flap shut behind him, the strict commander disappeared for a brief moment.
He exhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders before stepping towards the small brass mirror mounted on the wooden stand. His eyes fell on his own reflectionâthe sharp lines of his face still stained with streaks of gulal.
A rare, amused huff left his lips as his fingers ghosted over the red mark smeared across his cheek. Naina.
He shook his head, barely suppressing the small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Bachpana," he muttered to himself, though the slight warmth in his chest betrayed the words.
Turning away, he reached for the brass lota filled with fresh water and splashed it onto his face, the coolness grounding him. The red powder swirled in the basin, disappearing into the water.
But even as the color washed away, the sensation of her touchâlight, teasing, and unexpectedâremained.
Karan straightened, gripping the edges of the basin, looking at his reflection once more. His face was clean now, free of color. But his mind?
His mind was still stained with her laughter, the challenge in her eyes, and the way she had managedâsomehowâto make him break the rules he had set for himself.
He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair before stepping back. The Commander of the Camp had no time for distractions.
Even if that distraction was wearing a victorious smirk and sprinting through the camp with a fistful of gulal.
After washing his face and restoring his usual stoic expression, Karan stepped out of his tent. The camp had come alive in vibrant chaosâtrainees ran across the grounds, laughing, their uniforms and faces smeared with gulal in shades of red, yellow, and green. Even some senior officers had given in to the celebration, though with far more restraint than the younger recruits.
Karan's sharp eyes scanned the grounds, watching his soldiers as they indulged in the festival, their discipline momentarily forgotten. Yet, amidst the sea of colors and flying handfuls of powder, he noticed somethingâor rather, someoneâmissing.
Naina.
A frown creased his forehead. His gaze swept through the groups of trainees, but she was nowhere in sight. His feet moved on their own accord, weaving through the crowds, as he searched for her.
Where had she gone?
Just as he turned a corner near the training tents, a sudden blur of movement shot out from behind him.
Before he could react, a familiar pair of hands smeared a fresh handful of gulal across his face, the fragrant red powder coating his cheek and jaw.
Karan stiffened, blinking through the cloud of color, and caught a fleeting glimpse of Naina's mischievous grin before she darted away.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, though his expression remained unreadable. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, the red staining his fingers.
He had spent the past few minutes searching for her, and yet, she had found him first.
And just like beforeâshe ran.
Karan exhaled, shaking his head before his lips curved into the faintest of smirks.
"Bohot tez bhaagti hai, par dekhte hain kitni door tak."
Without hesitation, he strode forward. This time, he was going to catch her.
Karan moved fastâfaster than Naina had expected.
She glanced over her shoulder mid-sprint, eyes widening when she saw him gaining on her. Her heart pounded, half in exhilaration, half in panic.
"Ye aadmiâ" she huffed under her breath, pushing herself to run faster.
But she had underestimated him.
Just as she turned a corner behind his office, strong fingers wrapped around her wrist.
A sharp tug, a misstepâ
And suddenly, they were both falling.
The world spun as Naina lost her footing, dragging Karan down with her. A startled gasp escaped her lips as she landed on the ground, her back hitting the soft dirt.
Karan landed just inches above her, his hands planted firmly on either side of her head.
Silence.
The sounds of Holi celebrations faded into the background. For a moment, neither of them moved.
Naina's chest rose and fell rapidly, her wide eyes locked onto his. Their breaths mingled in the small space between them. His face was so closeâtoo close. His sharp features, usually set in an unreadable mask, now held something else entirely.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Then, as if the spell had broken, Karan pushed himself up, straightening hurriedly. Naina scrambled to her feet as well, dusting off her clothes, avoiding his gaze.
The moment lasted only a heartbeatâbut it had been enough to make her forget how to breathe.
But she was not one to be easily shaken.
Before he could regain full control of the moment, she reached for her packet of gulal, aiming straight for his cheek once again.
This time, Karan was faster.
His hand shot out, capturing her wrist mid-motion.
Naina gasped as his grip tightenedânot painful, but firm.
And in the blink of an eye, he turned the game around.
Dipping his fingers into the crimson gulal in her own hand, he dragged the color across her cheek in one slow, deliberate motion.
His thumb lingered just a second too long before he pulled away.
A victorious smirk tugged at his lips. "Ab bhaagna band karegi?"
Naina, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, narrowed her eyes. She let out an exasperated huff, but before she could retaliate, Karan stepped back, dusting his hands off with finality.
His voice was back to its usual, composed tone. "Khel khatam, Rao."
And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing thereâher cheek still burning, and not just from the color.
As the sun climbed higher, the celebrations in the camp grew wilder. Trainees laughed, colors flew, and someone had even managed to get their hands on a pot of thandaiâspiked generously with bhaang.
Naina, ever the opportunist, noticed Karan standing near the command tent, arms crossed, surveying the chaos with his usual unreadable expression. An idea sparked in her mind.
With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she grabbed two clay cups filled with the sweet, intoxicating drink and strode toward him.
"Kya aap sirf dekhte hi rahenge, Commander?" she teased, handing him a cup. "Aaj Holi hai. Yeh to pratha hai!"
Karan raised a skeptical brow but accepted the cup. "Mujhe yeh sab pasand nahi," he muttered, yet he took a sip.
And then another.
And another.
It wasn't long before the effects set in.
At first, it was subtleâhis usual rigid posture loosened. His sharp eyes, always calculating, grew a little unfocused. And then, to everyone's utter shock, a slow, lopsided grin spread across his face.
The camp fell into stunned silence.
Captain Jain nudged the officer beside him. "Main sapna dekh raha hoon ya sach mein Karan Thakur muskuraya?"
"Muskura hi nahi raha," the other officer whispered in awe. "Hans raha hai!"
And he was.
Karan laughedâan open, unrestrained laugh, as if years of discipline had melted away. He stumbled slightly and caught himself on Naina's shoulder, his grip light but possessive. "Naina Rao," he announced dramatically, slinging an arm around her, "tum samajhti nahi ho... Britishers ka raj bohot hi bekaar hai!"
Naina blinked, biting back a laugh. "Aap political ho rahe hain, Commander?"
Karan straightenedâor at least, tried to. He raised a finger as if making an important declaration. "Britishers ko governance nahi aati! Yeh log samajhte hain ki woh sabse tez hain, lekin asli governance hamare khoon mein hai!"
The trainees watched, utterly dumbfounded.
"Aur tum suno!" Karan turned toward the nearest group of soldiers, his expression suddenly serious. "Ek din aisa aayega jab main British Governor ke chair ke upar pair rakh ke baithunga aur unko bolungaâ" he paused, eyes glinting with mischief. "'Chai le aana!'"
The camp erupted into laughter.
Jain wiped a tear from his eye. "Mujhe nahi pata tha Karan Thakur andar se pura krantikari niklega."
Another officer chuckled. "Agar Britishers sun le toh isko turant national threat declare kar dein!"
Meanwhile, Karan, still under bhaang's influence, turned back to Naina, who was barely containing her laughter. He patted her head like a proud mentor. "Naina Rao, tum ek din fauj ki nahi... is desh ki rani banogi! Kya mazedar ladki ho tum!"
At this, Naina burst out laughing. "Commander, aapâ"
"Lekin," Karan interrupted, holding up a finger. His expression turned suspicious. He leaned in, eyes narrowing. "Tum British agent toh nahi ho?"
Naina gasped, feigning betrayal. "Main? British agent?"
"Haan," he said gravely, before suddenly tapping her nose with a finger dipped in gulal. "Par koi baat nahi. Tum achhi agent ho!"
More laughter followed, and soon enough, Karan found himself being pulled into the Holi madness, throwing color at his trainees, shouting exaggerated war cries against British rule, andâmost shockinglyâsmiling.
For the first time, Karan Thakur wasn't the commander of the camp. He was just another soldier, lost in the festival, laughing like a boy who had forgotten his burdens.
But, of course, all good things came to an end.
The next morning, Karan woke up with a splitting headache.
He groaned, rubbing his temples, barely able to open his eyes against the harsh sunlight streaming into his tent. His uniform was still stained with colors. His muscles ached in ways they never had before.
And thenâhe heard it.
Laughter. Snickering. Whispered conversations just outside his tent.
Karan frowned. Something was wrong.
He stepped out, and instantly, dozens of eyes turned toward himâtrainees, officers, even Captain Jain. And every single one of them wore the same expression: barely contained amusement.
Karan narrowed his eyes. "Kya chal raha hai?"
The camp broke into laughter.
Jain clapped him on the shoulder. "Thakur sahib, aap toh bade krantikarak nikle! Britishers ko chair ke neeche bithane ka sapna bohot achha tha!"
Karan froze. His mind, still foggy, struggled to piece together what had happened. "Maine... kya?"
"Sir, aapne kal Holi pe poore camp ka rang badal diya!" someone called out.
Another trainee grinned. "Aur aapne Naina ko kaha tha ki woh ek din desh ki rani banegi!"
Karan felt his blood run cold. He turned to Naina, who stood smugly with her arms crossed. "Aapne kaafi dilchasp baatein ki, Commander," she said sweetly. "Yaad hai?"
He most definitely did not.
His jaw clenched. "Main bhaang nahi peeta..."
Naina smirked. "Pee toh li."
Silence.
Then, without another word, Karan turned on his heel and strode back into his tent, slamming the flap shut behind him.
The camp howled with laughter.
Inside, Karan ran a hand down his face. "Mujhe transfer chahiye," he muttered to himself.
Because if one thing was certain, it was that he would never live this down.