Ishq by chance - where it all began

The morning sun bathed the school grounds in a soft golden hue, reflecting off the polished windows of the building. The neatly arranged rows of students, clad in crisp uniforms, stood with varying levels of alertness—some straight-backed and attentive, others barely stifling yawns. Teachers patrolled the assembly ground, their sharp gazes scanning for any sign of mischief.

At the front, Ms. Kapoor, the principal, stood poised with her microphone, waiting for the murmuring students to settle down before she began the morning announcements.

Navya adjusted the sleeves of her neatly ironed shirt, rolling her shoulders to shake off the stiffness of standing still for too long. A yawn threatened to escape, but she quickly covered it up, blinking to wake herself. Beside her, Swati nudged her lightly, her voice a mere whisper.

“Roz subah subah line mein statue ban kar khade hone se achha hai, direct class chalte,” Swati murmured, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder with a practiced ease.

Navya smirked. “Agar aisa hone laga, toh tere jaisi neend ki devi abhi tak apni bed se chipki hoti.”

Swati sighed dramatically. “Haan yaar, sach bolu toh yeh morning assembly se achha toh alarm clock ka chillana lagta hai.”

Navya snorted but quickly straightened up when a teacher glanced in their direction. Meanwhile, in the boys’ row, chaos was already brewing.

Vihaan adjusted the cuffs of his blazer, his brows furrowing slightly. “Tu hamesha mere peeche hi kyun khada hota hai?” he asked, exasperation creeping into his voice.

Yuvraj smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Tujhse door khada hone ka matlab hai bina tang kiye din shuru ho… aisa zulm main apne upar nahi kar sakta.”

Vihaan shot him a warning look. “Ek din tujhe—”

Before he could complete his sentence, Yuvraj, in a seemingly casual movement, nudged him forward. It was a light push, almost playful, but with Vihaan already slightly off balance, it was enough. His footing faltered.

And then—disaster struck.

With all the grace of a falling tree, Vihaan stumbled forward, his arms flailing for support that did not exist. Time seemed to slow as he lurched ahead, his polished shoes skidding against the ground, and in the most unfortunate turn of events—he crashed.

Face-first.

A stunned silence followed. For a heartbeat, nobody moved. The teachers froze, unsure whether to be concerned or to maintain their strict composure. The students, on the other hand, were merely processing what had just happened.

Then, like a dam breaking—laughter exploded across the assembly ground.

It started as a few snickers, then grew into full-blown hysteria. Students doubled over, clutching their stomachs, gasping for breath as they pointed at the unfortunate boy sprawled on the ground. A few even wiped tears from their eyes. Some dramatic souls whispered, “Legendary moment!” as if they had just witnessed history being made.

Navya was the loudest. “HAAHAA! Vihaan, yarr, kya entry maari hai! Lagta hai tujhe dharti maa ne bulaya tha.”

Swati, barely able to stand straight, wheezed, “History me likha jayega yeh moment.”

Even Yuvraj, the mastermind behind the fall, had to bite his lip to keep from laughing outright. But playing his role perfectly, he took a step forward, extending a hand to his fallen friend with a face full of concern.

“Bhai, tu theek hai?” he asked, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his innocence.

Vihaan, now attempting to gather the last shreds of his dignity, swatted his hand away and stood up, brushing invisible dust off his uniform. His face was a mix of irritation and sheer disbelief.