POV -
The moment her father came home that night, Sanvi's mother shut him down with just one lie, laced in fake calmness:
"Let it go. Don't say anything. I've already handled everything."
(Bitch. How can someone lie with such ease? How can they act so clean after causing so much filth?)
After that night, Sanvi stopped speaking to her mother entirely—and her mother did the same. They lived under the same roof, yet looked at each other like strangers… strangers who both knew the truth but wore masks to survive.
---
A few months later…
Sanvi (smiling to herself, suitcase in hand):
"Finally. I'm free. Done with this house, done with the daily screaming, the tension, the chaos. Finally, peace. No more shouting. No more headaches. No more walking on eggshells every damn day."
But Sanvi wasn't the only one smiling that day.
Her mother was even happier—because the biggest thorn in her side had just walked out.
And Aashvi, her sister? Overjoyed. Now she had a whole room to herself.
No more dividing the outside food in three equal parts. Now just two: one for her, one for her little brother Aarav.
But fate? Fate wasn't ready to hand them happiness so easily.
---
Sanvi (now in 11th grade, walking to her hostel):
"Alright, I'm here. New place, new life. I need to change. Time to grow up, act mature—no more stupid mistakes. But seriously, who forgets the route to their own institute on day one and ends up lost on the way back?!"
She shook her head and laughed bitterly.
"It's fine. Change takes time. I'll get there. For now, all I want is to get to my room, eat something, and pass out."
---
Back in her hostel room…
She threw her bag, kicked off her shoes, and whispered her personal ritual:
"You wanna relax as a girl? Step one—ditch the bra. Step two—face down on the bed. Heaven, unlocked."
But just as she flopped onto her mattress, her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Sanvi frowned.
"Only a handful of people have this number. Who the hell…?"
She answered, cautious.
Sanvi: "Hello? Who's this?"
*Voice on the other side—
It was him.
Sonu Uncle. That disgusting pig.
Sonu Uncle (in his greasy, fake sweetness):
"Hello, it's me. I talk to your mom often. Thought I'd check in. Now that you're so far from home, you'll need someone, right? If you ever need anything—money, help, anything—just call me, okay? I'll take care of it all. Always here for you."
Sanvi (her skin crawling with rage, her voice laced with venom beneath forced politeness):
"Oh… Hello, uncle. I didn't recognize the number—didn't save it, obviously. And secondly, I have a father. If I ever need anything, I'll ask at home. There's absolutely no need to disturb you. But thanks, I guess… for the offer."
And for proving exactly how filthy you are. (she thought silently)
She hung up without waiting for a reply.
Her stomach turned.
Even after escaping that house, the shadows still reached for her.
But Sanvi wasn't that same scared girl anymore.
Not this time.
Not ever again.
Here you go! A hilarious, dramatic, and super relatable English version with a spicy hook to keep readers glued:
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Sanvi had had enough.
The second that creepy uncle's call ended, she blocked his number like it was a telemarketer from hell. She flopped on her bed and plugged in her earphones—Labyrinth's "You Don't Even Know My Name" playing like it was written for her. Classic main-character energy.
Sanvi (murmuring to herself):
"Today was actually peaceful. Wow. Am I… am I finally free? No more screaming matches, no more daily emotional WWE at home. It feels like I've escaped a cult. Honestly, this girl who used to need an earthquake to wake up by 9 AM is now opening her eyes at 6 AM all by herself. Character development, baby. I'm free. FREE!"
But even freedom comes with its curses.
She missed her little brother like hell. She tried to push the thought away.
"He'll adjust… I'll adjust. We all will. Eventually…"
---
Next Day: The Institute from Hell ~
Sanvi- "WHY do these people want me dead? Who builds an institute so far away? And why does the sun hate me today?!"
She was already sweating bullets just walking up the road, and then she saw it—five floors of stairs.
FIVE. FLOORS.
And yes, there was a lift… but guess what? Reserved for staff only. Because obviously, students don't have legs. Or dignity.
By the time she reached class, she looked like she'd taken a shower in her clothes.
Sanvi (gasping for air):
"I should've opened my books… but I'm too busy trying not to evaporate. I swear, if the universe had any love for me, it would rain right now."
And then he walked in.

Tall. Maybe 6 foot something. Slightly muscular. Ridiculously flawless skin. Eyes sharp enough to slice egos.
Sanvi's heart forgot how to beat for a second.
She wasn't a simp. At least that's what she told herself.
Sanvi (internally screaming):
"Okayyy I didn't know there would be eye candy this early in the course. Someone call 911, I think I just caught a crush… NO! Focus. I'm here to become mature, independent, not fall for jawlines and dimples."
Still, her eyes had other plan.
She started noticing him—how he joked with the teachers, made the class laugh, and walked past her like a walking Greek tragedy she couldn't solve.
But talking to him? HA! That would've required social courage. Sanvi didn't even have the courage to ask for ketchup at McDonald's.
---
Months passed.
Every day:
Institute → Study → Secret Glances at Mr. Dashing → Go home → Collapse.
And then one night, it hit her.
Sanvi (lying in bed with a fake crying voice):
"Bro what even is my life? I SURVIVED COVID FOR THIS?! I could've just died and saved myself from this tragic sitcom! My social skills are dead. I talk to no one. I sit in class like a houseplant. And the others? They're out here playing rom-coms in real time. Boys buying samosas for their girlfriends during break, girls hopping on their boyfriends' bikes after class like it's a Bollywood scene. And me? I walk home sweating like a marathon runner just to save 20 rupees. I NEED A BREAK!"
And it wasn't even about romance.
She just wanted one person.
One human being to talk to.
To laugh with.
To share memes without second-guessing.
Sanvi (clutching her blanket like a burrito of despair):
"No more. Tomorrow? I'm not going anywhere. Institute can wait. Today, I rest. Today, Netflix is my only friend."
Sanvi (to herself):
"How can someone feel this empty and still be full of thoughts? My mind is like a crowded train but I'm still the only one on the platform."
There was no rain.
Only heat.
And one aunty yelling at her maid for using too much detergent.
Classic.
Sanvi sat on the bed, wrapped in a blanket (in April heat, mind you), watching comfort movies she's seen a thousand times just to feel something
And every romantic scene hit her like:
Sanvi (sipping tea and whispering):
"Wow, they met, fell in love, and got married in 2 hours. Meanwhile, I get anxious just replying to a 'hi'."
Her phone buzzed.
Not a message.
Just a notification from a food delivery app reminding her that she once had a life.
"Missing you, Sanvi! Order your comfort food now."
Even Zomato missed her more than people did.
She went back to her bed, curled up like a shrimp, and stared at the ceiling again.
Sanvi (in a dramatic whisper):
"Am I destined to be the side character in my own story? Like… am I just here to eat Maggi and overthink until I become a poet?"
Then she laughed. A sad, ironic little laugh that made her sound like a Netflix character with 3 episodes of emotional breakdown pending.
She opened Instagram, saw her classmates hanging out, taking selfies, being cool and unbothered, and she just sighed:
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