16-06-2025, 02:42 AM
Dbangs, Bangles, and Mischief
The crowd inside the hall had thickened. Brightly clad girls floated between stages and photo backdrops, while aunties bustled about with trays of flowers and sweets. The air smelled of jasmine, sandalwood, and coconut oil.
Abhi leaned slightly against a side pillar, quietly taking it all in. He had never been to a function like this. It felt like walking into a festive dream — one with no exit, and surprisingly, he didn’t want one.
“Excuse me… mister charming software engineer,” Tanvika called out, walking toward him with a mischievous grin. “We need help.”
Abhi blinked. “Me?”
“You’re tall. You’re quiet. That means you're definitely trustworthy,” she said, dragging him by the wrist toward a corner.
He didn’t resist. She brought him to a small setup where a few girls were struggling to string a flower garland across a decorative frame. “Just hold that side. No, higher… yep! A little to the right,” Niharika said, directing him like he was part of the staff.
Abhi smiled, doing as asked. Isha stood nearby, watching him with arms crossed. “You're handling this better than most guys would,” she murmured.
He glanced sideways. “I’m not most guys.”
“I can see that,” she said, letting the compliment linger before turning away.
A group of girls, most in their early twenties, had now noticed him — whispering, giggling, and pretending to adjust their bangles or dupattas as they passed by him repeatedly. His fair skin, gentle smile, and slightly shy composure only made him stand out more.
One girl took a bold step. “Are you Madhavi akka’s brother?”
Abhi hesitated. Before he could answer, Madhavi herself appeared behind the group and gently touched his arm.
“He’s not my brother,” she said smoothly, her voice low and calm. “He’s my neighbor. And yes, he’s single.”
The girl blushed, and the group burst into laughter. Abhi smiled, but his eyes followed Madhavi as she walked past him. She didn’t turn around, but her fingers had brushed his forearm ever so slightly. Deliberate or accidental? He wasn’t sure. But he felt it.
Minutes later, he was pulled into another setup — this time by Isha and a couple of her cousins, who were decorating small return gift trays. They made him sit cross-legged and help paste small jasmine flowers into borders.
“You have nice fingers,” one of them said casually. “Not too rough. Software engineer fingers.”
Abhi laughed. “I’m going to pretend that’s a compliment.”
“Everything about you is a compliment,” Tanvika shot from nearby.
Across the room, Madhavi watched. A soft smile curled at her lips, but a flicker of something passed her eyes. Possessiveness? Amusement? Maybe both.
Later, as a group photo was being taken, Isha pulled Abhi in. “Come, come! You’ve survived this long. You deserve to be in the photo.”
They pushed him to the center — the only guy among a vibrant circle of young women in dazzling half-sarees. Cameras clicked. Some girls leaned toward him, one even pretending to fix his collar.
From behind the lens, Madhavi called out, “Abhi… smile like you’re very happy to be here.”
He looked directly at her, smiled gently — and nodded once. Their eyes met across the sea of color. Just for a second. No words.
A bell rang in the background. The puja was about to begin.
The crowd inside the hall had thickened. Brightly clad girls floated between stages and photo backdrops, while aunties bustled about with trays of flowers and sweets. The air smelled of jasmine, sandalwood, and coconut oil.
Abhi leaned slightly against a side pillar, quietly taking it all in. He had never been to a function like this. It felt like walking into a festive dream — one with no exit, and surprisingly, he didn’t want one.
“Excuse me… mister charming software engineer,” Tanvika called out, walking toward him with a mischievous grin. “We need help.”
Abhi blinked. “Me?”
“You’re tall. You’re quiet. That means you're definitely trustworthy,” she said, dragging him by the wrist toward a corner.
He didn’t resist. She brought him to a small setup where a few girls were struggling to string a flower garland across a decorative frame. “Just hold that side. No, higher… yep! A little to the right,” Niharika said, directing him like he was part of the staff.
Abhi smiled, doing as asked. Isha stood nearby, watching him with arms crossed. “You're handling this better than most guys would,” she murmured.
He glanced sideways. “I’m not most guys.”
“I can see that,” she said, letting the compliment linger before turning away.
A group of girls, most in their early twenties, had now noticed him — whispering, giggling, and pretending to adjust their bangles or dupattas as they passed by him repeatedly. His fair skin, gentle smile, and slightly shy composure only made him stand out more.
One girl took a bold step. “Are you Madhavi akka’s brother?”
Abhi hesitated. Before he could answer, Madhavi herself appeared behind the group and gently touched his arm.
“He’s not my brother,” she said smoothly, her voice low and calm. “He’s my neighbor. And yes, he’s single.”
The girl blushed, and the group burst into laughter. Abhi smiled, but his eyes followed Madhavi as she walked past him. She didn’t turn around, but her fingers had brushed his forearm ever so slightly. Deliberate or accidental? He wasn’t sure. But he felt it.
Minutes later, he was pulled into another setup — this time by Isha and a couple of her cousins, who were decorating small return gift trays. They made him sit cross-legged and help paste small jasmine flowers into borders.
“You have nice fingers,” one of them said casually. “Not too rough. Software engineer fingers.”
Abhi laughed. “I’m going to pretend that’s a compliment.”
“Everything about you is a compliment,” Tanvika shot from nearby.
Across the room, Madhavi watched. A soft smile curled at her lips, but a flicker of something passed her eyes. Possessiveness? Amusement? Maybe both.
Later, as a group photo was being taken, Isha pulled Abhi in. “Come, come! You’ve survived this long. You deserve to be in the photo.”
They pushed him to the center — the only guy among a vibrant circle of young women in dazzling half-sarees. Cameras clicked. Some girls leaned toward him, one even pretending to fix his collar.
From behind the lens, Madhavi called out, “Abhi… smile like you’re very happy to be here.”
He looked directly at her, smiled gently — and nodded once. Their eyes met across the sea of color. Just for a second. No words.
A bell rang in the background. The puja was about to begin.
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