Monday Morning — Saharsh's Room
Saharsh opened his eyes and was instantly greeted by... cleanliness. His usually chaotic room was spotless. The socks were gone. The chip wrappers? Vanished. Even his desk was dusted and organized.
He blinked twice, then grinned.
"She did it again."
He leapt from bed and made a beeline for his table. A sticky note was waiting for him — along with his very empty wallet.
"I need your phone's password next time. I'm leaving mine here — it's 230703.
I cleaned your room again.
Sorry for emptying your wallet, but it was deliciously worth it.
Also, I met your friend Deepak. He's sweet (Describes incident).
Oh, and I've hidden one of your screwdrivers. Find it. It's a challenge.
Please keep money in your wallet every Sunday — consider it kitchen compensation."
He laughed.
"Rakshita..."
He repeated it softly, letting the name sink in. Not R. Not Rakku. Rakshita. It suited her. It sounded bold, a little elegant, and a little mischievous — just like her notes.
He smiled to himself.
"She finally gave me her name. Rakshita. Huh... fits her."
Then he spotted the line asking for his phone password and groaned.
"Oh no... She's really going to see my 'I Love Samosas' secret."
He grabbed a pen and scribbled back beneath the note:
"Nice name. Rakshita. Kind of poetic. Like someone who'd throw a slipper and then write an apology haiku.
As promised, here's my phone password: ILoveSamosas123. Don't judge. It was supposed to be temporary."
He paused, then added:
"Also, good luck finding my wallet next time if you touch my precious tools again. I booby-trapped the other screwdrivers. (Kidding. Mostly.)"
He folded the note, placed it back on the table, and smirked.
"Game on."
He opened his room door with a big grin — and almost walked straight into Deepak.
Deepak was glaring.
"So?"
Saharsh blinked. "So… what?"
Deepak crossed his arms. "Girlfriend!! Where is Bhabhi ji?"
Saharsh's smile faltered.
"Um… she went home last night."
Deepak squinted. "Did she now? Because I clearly saw someone with big eyes and bigger appetite raid your wallet and charm my socks off yesterday."
Saharsh rubbed the back of his neck. "She's... uh... something else."
Deepak leaned in. "Bro, when I tried to talk to her she kicked me out. Something's suspicious. Are you hiding something? Where is she from? She can be bad news."
Saharsh's grin disappeared. He hesitated.
Deepak shook his head.
"She raided your wallet, stole your chips, cleaned your room, and then vanished. I don't like this. Be careful, bro."
Saharsh nodded, watching Deepak walk away.
Once alone, he whispered to himself,
"Hush... saved by a hair."
Meanwhile — Rakshita's Room on Monday
Rakshita woke up to the faint but tantalizing smell of spices drifting into her room. It pulled her toward the kitchen, where she found a chaotic mess: opened spice jars, scattered utensils, and an almost empty butter paneer container next to some naan bread resting on a plate.
She hesitated a moment, then gave in to temptation. The butter paneer was warm and flavorful — rich, creamy, with just the right hint of spices. The naan was soft and fresh, perfect for scooping up the curry. She savored every bite, feeling a strange warmth spread through her chest — comfort from a world she barely understood.
After finishing, she wiped her fingers on a napkin and hurried to her table, where a sticky note lay waiting.
She unfolded it eagerly:
"So we both agree. Sunday is swap day.
I promise I didn't touch your kitchen this time. Mostly. Maybe.
P.S. Name's Saharsh — but you already know that if you read my note last week.
What should I call you, Mystery Sass Master?"
She smiled, then found a second note tucked underneath.
"Next Sunday: one question each. Let's get to know the mystery behind this madness.
P.S. Your spice rack is organized like a Rubik's Cube. Respect.
Also... your best friend slapped me. Hard. (Describes full scenario).
Could you spare some money here? I want to try the gadgets!
And sorry again for the kitchen — I really can't help myself."
Rakshita grabbed her pen and wrote back:
"Dear Mr. Otherworldly Chef,
Title accepted — but don't forget who's the real Ms. Sass Master here.
One question each next Sunday sounds like a game I'm ready to win. Prepare yourself!
Also — the butter paneer and naan? Chef's kiss! Honestly, you surprised me. Didn't think you had it in you, but that was delicious. You're officially upgraded from 'otherworldly' to 'master chef' in my book.
Glad you noticed the Rubik's Cube spice rack — organizing chaos is an art form.
About Anaya's slap — she's protective and a little fiery. Just wait, she might warm up to you... eventually.
Money's on its way — but only if you promise to save me some gadget experiments for a rainy day.
Kitchen chaos forgiven, but try not to burn down either world, okay?
P.S. Ms. Sass Master signing off. Don't forget it."
She carefully folded the note, her heart fluttering with a mix of amusement and something unspoken — excitement? Curiosity? She wasn't sure yet.
One thing was certain: this crazy swap had officially become the highlight of her week.
Just as Rakshita was folding her note and smiling to herself, she turned and found Anaya already sitting inside her room — arms crossed, gaze sharp, like she'd been rehearsing this interrogation.
"So, where is Mr. Chef that I slapped yesterday?"
Rakshita flinched. "Wait—who chef? Saharsh? He's not a… I mean—why do you think he's a chef?"
Anaya arched her brow. "Because that's what he told me! I came to see you and was just sitting inside when he barged in like a cartoon character shouting 'I LOVE THIS TECHY WORLD'! Then he froze, looked at me like I was some sort of alien, and blurted out that you hired him to cook."
Rakshita laughed nervously. "Oh… uh… yeah, about that..."
Anaya leaned forward, suspicious. "Don't you dare say he's a space tourist."
Rakshita scratched her head and mumbled, "He's… my boyfriend."
Anaya's jaw dropped. "Boyfriend? Since when?!"
Rakshita stuttered, "Uh… just recently. He's kinda shy around strangers, especially girls. That's probably why he panicked and said he's a chef."
Anaya stood up. "Wait wait wait — that doesn't explain how he got in. Did you give him a key or something?"
Rakshita hesitated. "I… uh… yeah. I gave him the key. I mean, how else would he come inside?"
Anaya smacked her forehead. "You gave a key to a guy you barely know? Are you stupid? What if he's a psycho or something?"
Rakshita muttered, "He's not… he's just... different."
Anaya crossed her arms again. "Where is he now?"
Rakshita replied quickly, "He left in the morning. As soon as I came back."
Anaya's eyes narrowed. "Came back? From where?"
Rakshita froze for a second. "From… his world."
Anaya blinked. "What world?"
Rakshita stammered. "I-I mean I went out. To explore… something."
Anaya tilted her head. "Explore what?"
Rakshita turned on her heel. "Leave that, na! Come on, have paneer! He cooked it for me before he left."
She pulled open the kitchen lid, revealing the warm butter paneer and naan leftovers.
Anaya's suspicion wavered the moment the aroma hit her. She sniffed, took a bite… and visibly melted.
"Mmm… okay fine, he might be suspicious but damn, he cooks like a magician."
Rakshita grinned and handed her a plate. "Told you. Mr. Otherworldly Chef has his uses."
For now, the paneer had won.