Part 2
The children’s laughter still echoed like temple bells at dusk as Rivaan Kapoor walked away from his impromptu dance performance, his expressions oscillating between embarrassment and bemusement. Their small feet mimicked his signature steps hands raised, imaginary sunglasses tossed, hips swinging with pure, uninhibited joy.
And then, the mighty star of silver screens stumbled.
Not over ego. Not over pride.
But over a loosely strewn heap of dry hay sticks.
Thud.
He landed awkwardly one leg in the air, arms flailing like a forgotten marionette. A puff of golden dust rose around him, soft and mocking. For a brief moment, he didn’t look like the country's beloved action hero, but a confused city man humbled by village physics. Rivaan sat up, fuming, brushing hay off his kurta
