Chapter One: The Final Snooze
The morning sun filtered softly through the half-closed curtains, casting warm stripes across the room where the alarm buzzed with its final cry. A pale hand flopped out from under the blanket and smacked the snooze button—again.
Meet Sona Rai—25 years old, round-faced, adorably chubby, with dreamy eyes that once sparkled with ambition. She lived in a modest home nestled in a quiet street with her family: her ever-anxious mother Kamla Rai, her principled father Ghanshyam Rai, and her younger, overly practical brother Kumar.
Two years had passed since Sona had completed her university degree. Two long years of rejected interviews and unanswered emails. She once dreamt of becoming an influencer, sharing her world through the lens of a camera—but reality had other plans. Financial pressure, the weight of middle-class struggles, and endless rejections had buried her dream beneath practicality.
And today, just like every other time, was another interview day.
But unlike every other day—this time, it had to work.
"Sona!" Her mother's voice rang from the kitchen, sharp like a morning bell. "How many times do I have to say? Wake up early, at least on your interview day!"
Sona jolted upright, her eyes wide. "Oh no! Not again!" she muttered, throwing the blanket off and rushing to the bathroom.
Minutes passed in chaos. She barely managed to freshen up and gulp down the last few bites of paratha before storming out the door. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her outfit—a simple formal kurti and trousers—hung wrinkled and tired from the hurried dressing.
As she ran toward the bus stop, her bag swinging wildly on her shoulder, she couldn't help but feel the pressure of everything weighing her down—dreams lost, hopes clinging to one last thread, and her heart pounding in rhythm with her breath.
She climbed onto the bus just as it was about to leave, squeezing herself between strangers and grabbing the overhead rail for support.
Chest heaving, she whispered to herself, "Please... just let this one be different."
The bus moved forward, and so did she—toward a new beginning or another disappointment. Only time would tell.
Scene Ends.