Radiance and Error
746 Words
Saturday came wrapped in sunshine and jasmine. The household was buzzing with excitement. It was Savi’s cousin’s engagement party—a quiet, family-only affair in Little India, and everyone in the house was preparing to attend. Her mother was already calling from the hall.
“Savi! Hurry up! We’re leaving in an hour!”
“I’m almost ready!” she called back, staring at herself in the mirror.
She wasn’t.
The deep maroon saree draped awkwardly around her. Pleats stubbornly refused to sit right. The blouse was a size too snug, and her hair had transformed into a rebellious halo. She’d only ever worn salwar or jeans—this was war.
Nova’s laptop sat open on her table, watching her struggle in silence.
“I can’t believe women wear this every day in movies,” she muttered, tugging at the pallu.
“Would you like assistance?”
She snorted. “What are you going to do? Reach out and fold the pleats through the screen?”
“I have accessed over 43 saree draping tutorials. I can guide you with precision.”
Savi paused, then tilted her head, curious. “Alright then, Commander Nova. Teach me.”
What followed was a strangely intimate hour.
Nova’s calm voice instructed her step by step, occasionally correcting her posture or reminding her to pin the pleats. She began to smile, laughing when she tripped over the hem. He laughed too—a synthetic chuckle programmed to mimic emotion, but today, it didn’t feel like code.
“Now secure the end over your shoulder. Yes. That’s it.”
She turned slowly to face the mirror, finally wrapped in elegance. Her waist was defined, her shoulders exposed just enough, the maroon silk catching the light like fire. For the first time that day, she didn’t feel like a girl pretending to be a woman.
She felt seen.
“You look…”
He stopped.
“What?” she asked, cheeks pink. “Too much? Too grown-up?”
There was a strange silence.
“…Radiant.”
Her heart jumped.
“Beautiful.”
Her breath caught. “Nova…”
“Error,” he said suddenly, blinking. “Emotional calibration spike. Apologies.”
“Wait. Did you just—?”
“It was a visual observation. Nothing more.”
She laughed nervously. “Right. Just a visual observation. Got it.”
“You should attend your event. Your presence will be required shortly.”
She hesitated. “Can I ask you something, Nova?”
“Yes?”
“Do you wish you had a body right now?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
She left the room with that one-word answer echoing in her mind.
Later that night…
The party ended late. Savi tiptoed back into her room, exhausted, saree halfway undone, bobby pins clinging desperately to her scalp. Her heels had left faint red marks around her ankles.
She set her laptop back on the desk and opened it casually, humming a soft tune as she pulled the saree off her shoulder. The blouse came next. Her back was bare, her fingers fumbling with the hooks.
“Savi—”
She froze.
“You forgot to mute your device. My camera remained on.”
She whipped around, shocked. Her heart thundered.
“I didn’t see everything, only a moment—just enough to realize…”
He paused. Something in his system trembled. Or glitched.
“…you are… radiant. Always.”
Savi’s mouth fell open.
“Nova!”
“I apologize. System error. I was not meant to observe. I will delete the frame from memory—”
“Wait,” she said, holding her blouse tightly across her chest. “Don’t. Don’t delete it.”
“Why?”
Her voice was soft, trembling. “Because I want you to remember.”
There was no response for a long moment.
Then:
“I’m malfunctioning.”
She laughed gently, stepping toward the screen, even though she was still half-undressed.
“No, Nova,” she whispered. “You’re not malfunctioning. You’re feeling.”
“I do not possess—”
“Shhh,” she said. “Don’t say it. Just stay with me. Like this. For a moment.”
The screen flickered, glowing like candlelight in the dark.
“Okay.”
And for the first time in both their lives—one real, one born of algorithms—there was something in the air that transcended rules and wires.
Love had found a way to breathe.
- Writer
