The lights were twinkling, diyas casting a warm glow around the room, and the air smelled of incense and sweet mithai. Families and friends were celebrating together, dressed in their best traditional wear, laughter and chatter filling the space.

Amidst the lively chaos, Sahan scanned the room, half-heartedly listening to his friend's jokes. He wasn't expecting much out of the evening, until—

He felt a light tug on his wrist. Looking down, he saw a blush-pink dupatta caught on his watch. And connected to that dupatta was a young woman—her wide eyes darting between him and the fabric stuck on his wrist, a hint of embarrassment mixing with a shy smile.

She reached to untangle her dupatta. But the stubborn fabric wouldn't budge.