*For the best experience — play "Radha" from Student of the Year in the background while reading *
The uncles exchanged a sly glance.
One of them hit play on the music system.
🎶 "Radha on the dance floor…"
"Radha likes to party…"
"Radha on the dance floor…" 🎶
SHRIEKS. LAUGHTER.
Heels kicked off. Bangles adjusted. Dupattas tightened.
The girls RUSHED to the center like a spark meeting gunpowder—
Shoulders rolling. Wrists flicking. Hips shaking. Trying to outdo each other with the hook step.
And then—
THE CROWD PARTED.
MAHI STEPPED FORWARD.
Dressed in a golden lehenga that shimmered like sunlight on brass, she moved with quiet command. No giggles. No show-off. Just poise.
Her eyes fluttered shut. Chin tilted upward.
Hands lifted with elegance.
One foot tapped the ground. Then the other.
And slowly, she unfolded into a classical-fusion that made the air stand still.
Every beat of the music became a note in her bloodstream.
Her hands painted stories.
Her waist curved like ink flowing on silk.
Her eyes—sharp, teasing, unshaken—locked the audience in.
That's when the other girls froze.
She wasn't dancing to impress.
She was dancing like she belonged.
Like Radha had chosen her body as a vessel.
And just when the room reached breathless silence—
🎶 "O radha teri chunri
O radha tera challa
O radha teri natkhat najariya" 🎶
SOUMIK ENTERED.
SMACK—
His palm slapped the floor with rhythm as he slid in.
Soumik (smirking)
Bold. Unbothered. Beautifully arrogant.
His kurta flared with his movement, eyes locked on her as he pointed with mock command—challenging her.
🎶 "Hey radha radha kaahe
Itna guroor bhala
Chhodo bhi nakhre ye kaisi ada" 🎶
Two cousins flanked him, moving in sync like backup dancers in a musical.
But he?
He was dancing only for her.
Their movements clashed, played, mirrored.
Her spin met his side-step.
His raised eyebrow was answered with her smirk.
A near-touch. A turn.
Their bodies circled like twin planets caught in gravity.
The air pulsed between them.
Each step—measured, magnetic.
Each breath—shared.
They weren't dancing to the beat anymore.
They were the beat.
A silent tension sparked, tugged, teased—
something ancient, something unspoken.
In that moment, the world blurred—
leaving only him, her, and the rhythm.
SILENCE.
Then—
CLAPS. SCREAMS. WOLF WHISTLES.
Everyone erupted. It felt like the grand finale of a stage show.
Uncle and Aunty huddled, whispering.
Aunty (smiling, announcing):
"Hmmm… it's a tie!"
CHEERS.
But somewhere, in a corner…
Jealous hearts were cracking.
And two souls—
Were silently syncing to a rhythm they didn't understand yet.