Total Mess?

EPISODE 1 — “THE GIRL WHO DID NOT WANT TO GET MARRIED”

(Sana + Arun POV)

SANA’S POV

My house was too quiet.

Which means trouble.

Because in a normal Indian household, silence only means two things:

Someone died.

Someone is planning your marriage.

And since everyone in my family was very much alive, including the neighbours who screamed every morning for milk, it was obvious.

Marriage.

I walked into the living room, already suspicious, already annoyed, already preparing dramatic lines like:

“I’m only 23, let me live my stupid life.”

But then—

I saw snacks.

A LOT of snacks.

Murukulu, kaju katli, samosas arranged like soldiers, chutney bowls placed with too much aesthetic effort — this wasn’t normal.

This was dangerous.

This was pelli choopulu(Indian way of matchmaking)level dangerous.

“No. No. No. No. NO—” I muttered, stepping back.

“Hey, Sana beta!” Amma called with the sweetest voice she uses only before committing a crime.

I froze.

Yep. Confirmed. Marriage.

“Guests are coming,” she said.

“Why?” I demanded.

She smiled like a devil in saree. “Just… guests.”

“Amma.” “Yes?” “Ammaaaa.” “Yes?” “Tell me the truth or I will scream.”

She took a deep breath. “Fine. The groom’s family is coming.”

I screamed.

Not loud. VERY loudly. Like a fire alarm with feelings.

“AMMAAAA WHAT THE— NO. NO. CANCEL. DELETE. BACKSPACE. UNDO. SHUT DOWN—”

But before I finished my TED Talk on “Why Sana Should Not Get Married,” the doorbell rang.

I felt my soul leave my body and wave goodbye.

“Behave,” my mother hissed.

“I want to die,” I whispered.

“After marriage,” she whispered back.

ARUN’S POV

The house smelled like incense and new paint. The kind of smell that usually meant: “A girl is being forced to behave today.”

I sat on the sofa, politely sipping tea.

I didn’t actually like tea, but I liked peace more, and refusing tea in an Indian house is equal to declaring war.

Uncle and Aunty were smiling too much. The kind of smiles that said: “Please like our daughter. We baked samosas.”

I nodded quietly, listening to them describe Sana.

“She’s very… energetic,” her father said.

“Chaotic,” her mother corrected.

“Funny,” dad added.

“Unpredictable,” mum said.

I was intrigued.

Most girls in arranged meetings act shy… quiet… well-rehearsed.

But the way her parents exchanged nervous glances, I knew one thing:

This girl was not going to be boring.

Good.

I hated boring.

“Where is she?” I asked.

Aunty looked like she wanted to disappear. “She’s… coming.”

Which probably meant: She’s refusing to come.

I waited calmly.

And then—

A door slammed.

A thud.

A curse word.

Another thud.

Then—

A girl walked in.

Hair messy. Kurti half tucked. Earrings mismatched. Eyebrows raised like she was ready to fight someone.

She looked at me.

I looked at her.

She internally screamed. I internally laughed.

SANA’S POV

I walked in with only one goal:

Make him reject me.

Step 1: Look uninterested. Step 2: Behave like I escaped from a zoo. Step 3: Scare him away.

But then I saw him.

And my brain went:

“Ah shit.”

Because he was… annoyingly good-looking.

Tall. Sharp jaw. Light brown eyes with serious look. Grey shirt rolled up to the elbows. The kind of guy who looked like he had his life sorted while I couldn’t even sort my laundry.

I hated it.

I hated that I noticed.

But anyway—

I nodded at him with the least interest possible and sat down like a broken robot.

His eyes quietly followed me.

Ugh. Why was he so calm? Why wasn’t he sweating like normal grooms?

Time to attack.

“So,” I said, leaning back, “do you even WANT to get married?”

My mother hissed loudly.

He didn’t flinch.

He just… smiled lightly.

Calmly. Confidently. Like my question was the highlight of his day.

“Yes,” he said softly. “If the girl is not boring.”

I blinked.

EXCUSE ME?

Was he calling me interesting? Rude. Flattering. Annoying. Confusing. ALL AT ONCE.

—

ARUN’S POV

She was trying so hard.

SO hard to make me dislike her.

It was almost adorable.

The way she asked bold questions. The way she sat like she was ready to run. The way she glared at everyone.

Most girls I’ve met tried to impress. She tried to escape.

Refreshing.

I couldn’t help it — my lips lifted slightly when she asked:

“So, do you even WANT to get married?”

She expected me to panic. Instead, I answered honestly.

“If the girl isn’t boring.”

She froze like someone pressed pause.

Her parents looked like they wanted to hide under the table.

I took a sip of tea, hiding my amusement.

This was going to be fun.

SANA’S POV

Okay, Plan A failed. Time for Plan B.

Make him think I’m irresponsible.

“So, Arun,” I said, “I don’t wake up early. I hate cooking. I forget birthdays. I hate sarees. I lose things. I hate behaved people. And I’m broke.”

Everyone stared at me.

He didn’t.

He just kept… watching.

His eyes were calm. Too calm.

Like he could see right through everything I was saying.

“Okay,” he said.

OKAY?? JUST OKAY???

WHAT KIND OF OKAY WAS THAT??

Was he a saint? A psychopath? A robot? WHY WASN’T HE RUNNING AWAY?

Time for nuclear attack.

“I don’t want marriage.”

He leaned back slightly. Still calm.

“I know.”

I blinked.

“You know?? How?”

He tilted his head slightly. “With your introduction, it was obvious.”

Was he… teasing me?

Rude. UNEXPECTED. ILLEGAL.

“That’s fine,” he added softly. “We can talk. We don’t have to decide today.”

He was giving me space. Actual space.

Who does that?

Oh no.

He wasn’t supposed to be nice.

Nice is dangerous. Nice is confusing. Nice makes people fall.

I didn’t want to fall.

But his eyes… the way he spoke… the gentleness…

No. No. Focus, Sana.

BLOCK THE NICE.

ARUN’S POV

She was panicking inside.

She hid it with sarcasm, drama, and attitude — but her eyes… her hands… the way she picked at her fingernails…

She was scared.

Not of me.

Of marriage itself.

I didn’t know why. I didn’t ask. Not yet.

But I knew one thing:

She didn’t need pressure. She needed air.

So I gave it to her.

“It’s fine. We can talk,” I said. “No need to decide now.”

Her shoulders dropped slightly, like she wasn’t expecting kindness today.

She looked at me again, confused.

Cute.

—

SANA’S POV

Our parents forced us to go talk alone in the balcony.

Great. Just great.

I stood there, arms crossed.

He stood there, hands in pockets.

“So,” I said, “listen. I don’t want this.”

He nodded. “As I said, it’s okay.”

“Okay?? But what if I’m crazy?”

“That was clear too.”

I gasped. “RUDE.”

A tiny smile tugged his mouth.

“So you agree I’m crazy?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“I didn’t deny it.”

This man…

This silent, calm, irritatingly composed man was teasing me.

And my stupid heart… laughed.

Oh no. No. ABORT.

But before I could say anything else, he spoke quietly:

“You don’t have to pretend, Sana.”

I froze.

“What pretending?”

“You’re not chaotic,” he said softly. “You’re overwhelmed.”

My throat went dry.

How… how did he see that?

I masked everything with madness, jokes, noise — and he saw through it in five minutes?

Who was this man??

I swallowed hard. “Well… even if you see that, I still don’t want marriage.”

He looked at the sky. Then at me.

“That’s okay,” he said again.

Why did those two words feel… safe?

Why did he make everything feel… not scary?

I hated it. I liked it. I didn’t know.

Then he added quietly:

“But I would still like to know you.”

…And my heart tripped.

ARUN’S POV

She thought she was hiding. She wasn’t.

She thought she was fooling me. No one could.

She thought she was chaotic. She was scared.

And somewhere deep inside, I felt something shift.

Something warm. Something dangerous. Something I didn’t expect so soon.

But I kept it buried.

This was her pace. Not mine.

SANA’S POV

After half an hour of accidental smiles, small arguments, stupid jokes, and suspiciously comfortable silence…

We walked back inside.

Our parents stared at us like hawks.

“So?” my mother asked.

I opened my mouth to say “NO.”

But then—

He spoke first.

“We would like to meet again. Just to talk.”

My mother looked like someone gave her a kidney.

I stared at him.

He didn’t look at me.

But his voice… steady gentle assuring

Somewhere in my chest, something softened.

“I… guess,” I whispered.

Guess??? WHO SAID GUESS??? WHY DID I SAY GUESS???

Too late.

Everyone smiled.

And I stood there thinking:

How the hell did this calm man manage to break my resistance in ONE meeting??

ARUN’S POV

When she said “I guess,” I exhaled quietly.

Not because I wanted approval. But because she didn’t force herself to reject me.

She chose to try.

Even a little.

That was enough.

As I stood up to leave, I glanced at her for a second.

Just a second.

But it was enough to know:

This chaos-filled girl with mismatched earrings and mismatched emotions was going to change my life

And she didn’t even know it yet.

END OF EPISODE1

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