The next morning, I woke up feeling like someone had beaten me with a pillow dipped in existential crisis. My body refused to move. My soul refused to function. My brain? That bitch had taken a vacation without submitting a leave application.
I lay on the bed dramatically, one arm across my forehead like somae Victorian widow mourning her long-dead lover. Kiara walked past me with the energy of a productive adult and said, "Get up, you overcooked dumpling. We have a whole day."
I groaned and rolled deeper into the blanket burrito. "Life is meaningless. I am meaningless. Leave me here to rot."
She stared at me with horror. "It's 10 AM. You're not rotting; you're being lazy."
"Same thing," I muttered, still wrapped like an emotional spring roll.
Kiara yanked the blanket so aggressively that I literally rolled off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thud. "Ow—KIA WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!"
"Because," she said, tossing a towel at me, "I refuse to babysit a corpse."
I glared at her, but she didn't even care. She was already applying moisturizer with the elegance of a girl who had her life together. Meanwhile, I crawled to the washroom with the grace of a dying penguin.
By the time I actually got ready, the universe had already tested my patience seven times. First I dropped my brush. Then I misplaced my earrings. Then my eyeliner betrayed me and made me look like a raccoon going through a divorce. Then—because why not—my hair refused to cooperate. I swear it has a personal vendetta against me.
Finally, after a solid one hour of battling my own reflection, I emerged like a slightly presentable human.
Kiara clapped sarcastically. "Congrats. You look less dead."
"Thank you," I replied proudly. "It takes effort to look this unbothered."
She rolled her eyes so hard they traveled internationally.
I was feeling weirdly restless, like some part of me really wanted to go to Kiara's college again even though my mouth would never admit it. My heart whispered, "Aarav," and my brain yelled, "Shut up, simp."
But destiny obviously hates me, because Kiara casually announced, "Good news, I don't have to go to college today."
And just like that, my subconscious desire shriveled and died like a sad plant left in Rajasthan heat.
I stared at her with the dead eyes of a disappointed potato.
"Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?"
Kiara raised an eyebrow. "Uh... exist?"
Fair.
With that disappointment out of the way, we decided that if we weren't going to college, then we would explore Bhavnagar. Nothing planned. Nothing structured. Just vibes. Bad decisions powered by caffeine. Chaos waiting to happen.
A normal duo would go shopping or eat snacks.
But me and Kiara?
We are not normal.
We are two idiots with one functioning brain cell that clocks out at 11AM.
The moment we left the house, something in my soul activated. The energy. The madness. The stupidity. All at once. It was like the universe whispered, "Go forth, little gremlin. Cause chaos."
We decided to start with an auto ride because we thought we were normal humans. Spoiler: we were not.
Kiara and I had barely started the auto ride when destiny pulled off its chappal and slapped us across the face. One second we were vibing like responsible humans, and the next... the auto uncle slowed down, turned into a shady lane that looked like even Google Maps refused to map it, and brought the auto to a dramatic halt.
He turned around slowly with a smile that did NOT look like sunshine and rainbows. It looked like a smile you'd see before someone kidnaps you, steals your kidney, or forces you to join an MLM scheme.
Kiara froze so hard she could've been carved out of ice. I stopped breathing, blinking, thinking — everything. Even my hair paused movement. My brain immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion and was already writing the headline:
"Two brilliant but stupid girls disappear mysteriously — sources say their brain cells left long before they did."
Kiara whispered, barely moving her lips, "M-Misha... why did he stop... in... in THIS lane...?"
I whispered back, clutching my bag like it contained weapons instead of wrappers, "Idk bro... but if this man tries ANYTHING... I will throw myself at him like a flying chappal. Don't underestimate me."
She looked at me like she wasn't sure whether to trust me or cry.
Then — THE AUTO UNCLE GOT OUT.
Without saying a word.
Just walked away into the darkness of the shady lane.
Kiara grabbed my arm. "No. No. NO. WE ARE NOT DYING IN BHAVNAGAR. NOT LIKE THIS. I HAVEN'T EVEN BLOCKED MY EX YET."
I swallowed. "Kiara... listen... if something happens... tell my parents I was iconic."
We mentally prepared for kidnapping, murder, or a ransom note.
BUT.
BUTTTTT.
The uncle suddenly returned...
Holding a huge plastic bag full of onions.
ONIONS. Freaking ONIONS.
He dumped them inside the auto as if he was stocking a vegetable market on wheels.
I stared at him, traumatised. "Uncle... why... why did we stop here?"
He gave us a cheerful smile and said in full, confidence,
"Oh madam, I just went to pick up some onions. My wife asked for it."
Kiara blinked twice. "So... you stopped in a haunted lane... for onions?"
"Yes madam," he said proudly. "It is on the way only. Very convenient."
I slapped my forehead so hard the auto shook.
"BRO I ALMOST WROTE MY WILL FOR ONIONS."
Kiara groaned. "MISHA DON'T SHOUT—"
"I SAID MY LAST PRAYERS FOR VEGETABLES, KIARA. VEGETABLES."
The uncle, absolutely unbothered, continued arranging his onions with the passion of a wedding planner.
Kiara glared at me. "Please stop talking. I beg. Before he throws us out."
I sat back like a defeated reality show contestant.
My heart was still racing.
My soul was halfway out of my body.
And the auto now smelled like an emotional salad.
What a beautiful start to the day.
We had barely recovered from the onion-kidnapping auto incident when the universe decided to test my survival skills again. Kiara and I were walking peacefully—like two totally normal, absolutely sane girls—when a cow lifted her head and made eye contact with me.
A normal human would ignore it and walk past. But I am not normal. I am Misha. A creature of chaos, bad decisions, and emotional instability disguised as confidence. So the moment I saw the cow, my brain whispered, "Touch it."
Before Kiara could grab me by the collar, I tiptoed toward the animal like it was some majestic Pokémon I had been destined to catch. "Kiara..." I whispered dramatically. "This is my chance to embrace my inner Gujarati culture. Let me bond with the gau mata."
Kiara smacked her forehead. "Misha, don't. I'm warning you—just don't start your nonsense again."
But destiny had already dialed my number.
I extended my hand slowly, like Shah Rukh Khan in every emotional climax scene ever. "Come, my child," I said lovingly, as if I'd suddenly turned into some spiritual cow whisperer.
The cow looked at me.
I smiled.
The cow snorted.
I took it as acceptance.
The cow lowered its head.
I assumed she wanted cuddles.
That was my mistake.
Because the next second, the cow CHARGED.
I shrieked like someone unplugged my sanity. "AAAAAAAAA!"
Kiara screamed behind me, sprinting like she was in a Marvel movie chase scene. "RUNNNNNN MISHA RUNNN!"
"MISHA IS RUNNING," I screamed as I sprinted away like I was being chased by an Olympic sprinter disguised as a cow.
And there I was—arms flailing, hair flying everywhere, running with the dramatic energy of a rejected background artist from a horror serial. The cow thundered behind us like she'd been personally offended by my existence. We darted into a narrow lane, and thankfully the cow halted at the entrance, glaring at us as if vowing revenge in her next seven lives.
Chest heaving, I slumped against a wall and gasped, "Kiara... I SAW DEATH. HE WAVED AT ME."
Kiara stared at me, deadpan, hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. "You're unbelievable," she muttered. "And absolutely banned from touching anything alive ever again."
I dramatically placed a hand on my heart. "I was just trying to be a spiritual Gujarati girl."
"You're a spiritually dumb Gujarati girl," she corrected.
And that's how Kiara and I survived one cow, death, trauma, and my stupidity—all before lunchtime.
While we wandered around—roaming like jobless tourists, eating pani puri like we hadn't seen food in years, and laughing like two overexcited hyenas—my brain decided to betray me. Out of nowhere, the stupidest thought popped in:
What if Aarav was here?
Would he laugh with me? Would he think I'm cute? No. He would definitely think I'm insane.
Actually... he already does.
My brain quietly replayed yesterday's memories with Aarav—the way he smiled slightly, the way he actually talked to me, the way he wasn't serious like I expected, the way he didn't make me feel small or stupid.
I tried shoving the thoughts away, but they came back like annoying pop-up ads.
I tried to shake it off, but my brain was like, "NOPE, let's obsess over his stupid perfect smile for no reason."
Great. Amazing. Exactly what I needed. A full Bollywood internal monologue.
Just then, Kiara waved a samosa dangerously close to my eyeball.
"Where did you zone out to?" she asked, squinting at me like she was solving a murder mystery.
"Nowhere," I replied with the confidence of someone who was absolutely lying.
Her expression sharpened. "Mishaaaaa?"
The way she stretched my name was basically a threat.
"YES?" I squeaked.
"You're acting weird," she said slowly.
"I'M ALWAYS WEIRD," I argued, throwing my hands up.
She paused... then nodded. "Fair enough."
Thank god she didn't dig deeper. Because if she had asked even ONE more question, I swear on all the pani puris in the world—I would have melted straight into the footpath like a tragic wax statue.
And Kiara would be standing there with her samosa, watching me disintegrate like, "Yeah, that tracks."
But no, she just happily continued eating while I tried to duct-tape my thoughts back together.
And of course, my brain still whispered, Why are you thinking about Aarav?
I mentally screamed back, STOPPPP.
Did it stop?
No.
Because my life is a circus and my mind is the clown performing backflips without permission.
At some café, we finally collapsed into chairs like two survivors of a natural disaster. Kiara immediately started scrolling through her phone, probably judging memes, while I—because I have zero self-control—opened UNO.
And that's when god, or destiny, or some nosy aunty in the sky pressed the DRAMA button.
All the boys were online.
At the same time.
Aarav.
Advik.
Rudra.
Which was enough to send my brain into unnecessary chaos.
I kept my face neutral so Kiara wouldn't suspect anything, but inside I was combusting like a firecracker. He's online. Why is he online? Should I play a match? Should I disappear? Should I block myself?
I didn't even want to play with them, but my traitor of a finger tapped ENTER GAME before my brain even woke up. And the moment the match started, Rudra slapped a +4 on me so fast I felt like someone threw a chappal at my soul.
I shot up in my seat and yelled, "YOU LITTLE PIECE OF—"
Kiara looked at me like I needed medical help. "Why are you screaming at your phone?"
"HE ATTACKED ME!" I said, clutching the table.
"It's UNO," she replied calmly.
"NO. IT IS A PERSONAL ATTACK ON MY EXISTENCE."
But the universe wasn't done humiliating me.
Next, Advik played a skip card. ON ME. DIRECTLY.
I held my chest like a widow in an old TV serial. "Kia, I can't breathe. They're bullying me from different PIN codes."
She sipped her cold coffee and went, "Grow up."
Grow up?
ME?
THE VICTIM?
But the final blow—the betrayal that will haunt me for seven births—came from Aarav.
He placed a +2.
I stared at the screen, heart shattered, dignity evaporated, and whispered, "You too, Aarav?"
Kiara almost spit out her drink laughing at my tragedy while I sat there, locked in emotional damage.
And when the game ended, I stared at my losing score like it was my report card. Completely insulted. Personally victimized. Emotionally slapped by UNO mechanics.
I swear the universe was laughing at me.
Loudly.
As we walked around the city again, the universe decided to remind me that I have the balancing skills of a malfunctioning shopping cart. I tripped over absolutely NOTHING—air, oxygen, vibes, who knows—and Kiara screamed like she was watching me fall off a cliff. I collapsed onto the pavement with all the elegance of a dying peacock trying to do ballet.
When I looked up, two uncles were staring at me like they were watching National Geographic: "The rare Misha in her natural habitat—falling."
Kiara yanked me up while laughing so hard she snorted. "Why do you fall so much? Are you practicing dying?" I brushed dust off my jeans and sighed. "Gravity is obsessed with me." She rolled her eyes. "No, you're just clumsy as hell."
Throughout the day, I kept getting these random emotional waves like I was the dramatic lead in a sad indie movie. At one point, while waiting for ice cream, I looked at the sky and said with full Bollywood energy, "Sometimes I think I'm meant for something big."
Kiara humored me. "Yeah?"
I nodded dramatically. "Like maybe a legendary death scene."
She slapped my arm so hard I almost dropped my cone. "NOT THAT BIG, YOU DONKEY."
But then, for once, the chaos paused. We sat by the lakeside, feet dangling over the edge, wind ruining our hair like a free blow dryer. No insults, no screaming, no stupidity. Just...quiet.
I leaned my head on Kiara's shoulder and whispered, "I think I'm scared sometimes." She blinked. "Of what?" I stared at the water. "Of... feeling too much. Of catching feelings. Of liking someone and having no idea what to do with it." Kiara didn't laugh. She didn't tease. She just nudged me gently. "It's okay to feel things, Misha. You don't have to turn everything into a joke." My throat tightened, but I nodded. "I know." Then I immediately ruined it by adding, "BUT I WILL STILL PRETEND." She groaned, but she was smiling.
Obviously, the emotional moment lasted exactly 47 seconds before I ruined reality again.
I tried kicking a pebble dramatically, but it flew dangerously close to a random guy's leg. Kiara grabbed my arm and dragged me away while apologizing at 200 km/hr. "She doesn't know how to behave in public," she explained.
I gasped. "EXCUSE ME—I AM THE PUBLIC."
And just when you think my stupidity peaked—nope. The day had one final disaster waiting.
We were taking a selfie near some stranger's house, and I leaned against their gate for dramatic flair. The gate creaked... then slowly opened... and I fell INSIDE the compound like a thief who forgot the plan.
A dog barked. I screamed.
The owner appeared like a jump-scare villain. Kiara was on the floor laughing while trying to help me out. "NOT AGAIN!" I yelled. "WHY IS THIS MY DESTINY?!" We ran like fugitives.
Once we escaped the crime scene, Kiara slung an arm around me. "You're a disaster," she said lovingly. I grinned. "But your favorite one." She sighed the sigh of someone deeply cursed. "Unfortunately, yes."
By the time we reached home, we were exhausted, sore, and emotionally dehydrated. Later that night, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling like a tragic heroine, my brain did the one thing I begged it NOT to do: think about Aarav. Not dramatically—just in that soft, annoying, butterflies-are-dancing-but-I'm-in-denial way.
I groaned, slammed my face into the pillow, and announced to no one, "I HATE FEELINGS."
But I didn't stop thinking about him.
At all.
For the first time in a long time—
My chaos felt... exciting.
My mess felt... alive.
And maybe, just maybe...
A tiny part of that had something to do with a boy who didn't even know he was living rent-free in my brain.