By Vimal Kapoor
“Take that” hissed Advika as she landed a left upper cut on her opponent’s jaw. He reeled back and landed with a thud – another knockout by Advika. From a distance Mihir standing in the shadows watched with fascination.
In the heart of the lively Doon Valley, where cafés and Malls jostled with each other and mural paintings caught the eye on the walls along tiled streets, two lives were about to come together in a manner which they never expected.
Advika had always been an athlete. Growing up in an unassuming neighbourhood of Moti Bazaar, she learned to defend herself early on. By day, she worked as a waitress at a local cafe, serving coffee to regulars who did notice her enticing good looks. But by night, she became a shadow warrior, practicing her martial arts in an abandoned warehouse at Raja Road, channeling her antagonism into strength. She had no time for romance—love was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
Across the city, in the affluent region of Old Mussoorie Road, Mihir led a life of privilege. An up-and-coming architect, he did his schooling from a prestigious well known boarding school in Mussoorie. He was respected for his talent and charm. But beneath the polished exterior, he felt trapped in a world of expectations, suffocating under the weight of family legacy. When free, he often escaped to the same gritty neighborhoods where Advika fought, drawn by the raw energy that pulsed through the bazaars of lower Dehra.
Their paths crossed one eventful night at an underground fighting tournament, a spectacle of grit and glory. Advika was set to compete in the main event, and Mihir, despite his refined upbringing, found himself in the audience, enthralled by the raw talent of the fighters. When Advika stepped into the ring, a fierce fire raged within her. She fought with a passion that lit up the dark space, each punch echoing her rare talent.
Mihir was spellbound. He saw not just a fighter but a woman whose spirit burned brighter than the town lights. As Advika knocked out her opponent with a swift kick, the crowd mainly comprising school and college students of Paltan Bazaar and nearby areas roared. After the fight, adrenaline still pumping, she stepped outside to catch her breath. Mihir followed, unable to resist the urge to speak to her.
“Your reflexes and energy are unbelievable,” he said, his voice slightly breathless.
Advika turned, eyes narrowing. “And you are? Another rich kid who thinks he can have fun in the streets of Doon Valley?”
Mihir smiled and said nonchalantly, “Just someone who appreciates real talent.”
Their banter sparked an unexpected chemistry, and in the weeks that followed, they met under the cover of night. In the shadows of the city, they found solace in each other. Advika showed Mihir the raw beauty of her world, the simple but popular eating joints like ‘Chetan Pooriwala’ while he escorted her to the newly opened Hotel Taj for lunch and introduced her to art, culture, and the crème-de-la-crème of Doon.
But just as their romance blossomed, perils sneaked in. The underground fighting scene was rampant with criminals, and Advika had unwittingly caught the attention of a dangerous local gang leader, Jaggi, who had his own designs on her. One night, as she left the warehouse, she was confronted.
“Where do you think you’re going, little fighter?” Jaggi sneered, stepping out of the darkness with his gang.
Advika’s heart raced, fear creeping in. “Get away from me, Jaggi.”
Mihir, who had been waiting nearby, rushed in to protect her. “Leave her alone!” he shouted, positioning himself between Advika and the gang.
Laughter erupted from Jaggi’s men. “You think you can save her? This is our adda.”
A brutal fight ensued, fists flying and bodies colliding. Advika fought alongside Mihir, but the odds were against them. In the chaos, Mihir was struck hard, falling to the ground, and Advika screamed, her heart shattering at the sight. In that moment, all the anger she had channeled into fighting transformed into something else—a desperate need to protect the man who had brought light into her life.
Egged on by love and rage, she launched herself at Jaggi, landing blow after blow until the gang retreated, leaving her gasping, sweating profusely and victorious, but with Mihir unconscious at her feet.
Days passed in a blur. As Mihir recovered in a private Dalanwala hospital, Advika sat by his bedside, consumed by guilt and fear. She had pushed him into her world, and now he lay broken because of it. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
When Mihir finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Advika’s tear-streaked face. “I’m okay,” he murmured, reaching for her hand. “But we need to talk.”
“You don’t have to do this,” she said, voice trembling. “You could walk away.”
Mihir shook his head, determination in his eyes. “I won’t. I want to be with you, no matter what the risk.”
With those words, hope ignited within Advika’s heart. They faced the challenges ahead, united against the shadows of their world. Together, they found the way against the dangers and created a life where love prevailed over fear.
(Vimal Kapoor, a Dehradun resident, is passionate about literature, creature writing, cricket and exploration through travel)
