The familiar opening notes of 3 Idiots filled the living room, signaling the commencement of Antara's weekly torture session. There, sprawled on the couch like a starfish, was Aparna, a pint of ice cream in one hand and the remote in the other, a blissful smile plastered across her face.

"Seriously, Apu? Firse?" Antara drawled, the exasperation evident in her voice.