Twinkle Taneja and Kunj Sarna had been at each other's throats for as long as anyone could remember. They weren't just rivals-they were archenemies. To them, there was no word more insulting than "Kunj" or "Twinkle."
But fate had a twisted sense of...
The sun was setting over Mumbai, casting a warm golden hue that seemed to mock the tension brewing in the Taneja household. Twinkle stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her hair for what felt like the millionth time. Today was the first official planning meeting for Maya’s wedding, and she was determined to look like a diva—one who could throw daggers with her eyes if Kunj so much as breathed in her direction.
“Twinkle, you ready or not? We can’t be late! Kunj aur uski family intezaar kar rahi hogi!” Leela called out from downstairs, her voice laced with excitement.
“Late? Mom, I’m just making sure I don’t look like a potato next to Kunj’s fancy self!” Twinkle shot back, adding a final touch of mascara. “Besides, it’s not like he’s some kind of prince charming. More like a toad in a suit.”
“Bas kar! Jitna bhi kehlalo, uski family abhi tak tumhare parivaar ko nahi bhooli hai. So just smile and be nice, okay?” Leela advised, shaking her head with a knowing smile.
“Fine! But if he makes one sarcastic comment, I swear I’ll throw my makeup brush at him!” Twinkle huffed, grabbing her bag and heading out.
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The Sarna Family’s Strategy
Meanwhile, at the Sarna residence, Kunj was pacing back and forth in his room, rehearsing how to deal with Twinkle’s inevitable snark. Yash, perched on the edge of the bed, was scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention.
“Yaar, tum kyun itne stressed ho rahe ho? It’s just Twinkle. How bad can it be?” Yash teased, finally looking up.
“Bad? Bad is an understatement! Last time we worked together, she almost set my hair on fire!” Kunj retorted, running a hand through his already perfectly styled hair.
“Dude, just remember—don’t give her a reason to go all ‘Katrina Kaif’ on you. Keep it light and funny,” Yash advised, chuckling.
“Light? You mean like a featherweight? Because she throws insults like a boxer,” Kunj shot back. “I can’t let her get under my skin again. We need to nail this wedding planning and get out of each other’s hair.”
“Chill, Kunj. Just think of it as a challenge. Be the calm in her storm,” Yash said, smirking. “Or at least try not to drown!”
Kunj rolled his eyes but couldn’t help a smile. “Alright, I’ll try to be the ‘calm’ one, but if she starts throwing her glitter bombs again, all bets are off.”
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