The bedroom door opened slightly. He stepped inside, still dressed in that sherwani, looking tired, while his neck and cheeks held a faint crimson hue.

He looked around the room, only to find her sitting on the bed, reading a message on her phone. The room was illuminated by warm lights, and the glow of the screen lit up her face with an utterly indescribable radiance.

"Uhmm..." he cleared his throat to catch her attention.

She looked up from her phone, only to find her husband standing there—still dressed in his groom's attire.

She gave him a smile—an absolutely weird one.

He simply stared at her as though she were a piece of artwork. An hour ago, she had looked like a beautiful bride, and now she looked completely his. Her face was completely bare, still holding the soft moisture from her shower. Her skin glowed effortlessly.

She licked her lips as his gaze lingered a little longer than it should have.

"You should get changed," she managed to say.

"Yeah," he nodded, about to walk towards the closet, only to be stopped by her soft voice.

"Come back quickly. I have a gift for you," she said.

His mind stilled.

There was no way she could have gotten him a gift.

What would it be?

He walked towards the closet, changed into a soft T-shirt and a comfortable pair of loose trousers, the fabric doing nothing to hide his well-built frame.

He washed his face with face wash, applied moisturizer, and returned to the room.

By then, she had stood up from the bed.

He noticed the change and frowned.

"Here."

She placed a file on the table.

"What is that?" his lips formed the words.

"Papers."

"About what?" he asked.

"I'm not interested in this drama."

"What kind of drama?" he managed to ask.

"Do you think you'll give me the first letter of my life—and that too, so emotional—and I won't return the favour?" she chuckled.

For the first time in her life, she wanted to say something miserable to someone she had once admired.

"Listen to me—"

"Nope! Not now."

"So, this is a six-month contract. Just a contract. Look, I don't love you, and you, I guess, love someone else. So, better than that, we should just pretend we're married for six damn months."

She spoke as though her tongue had never glistened with honey—only with fire.

"Mr. Rajput, the rules are really simple.

We're not romantically connected—it's just fate.

You're my husband, but you owe nothing to me.

We won't stop each other from finding love with someone else.

No issues if you—or even I—have a one-night stand, or sex with your girlfriend.

I fucking don't care.

The most important rule is—never let others know what this relationship sounds like beyond our room's walls."

Her words made his breath hitch.

His eyes had nothing to say, but his lips trembled as though he were about to cry.

"And listen... don't expect me to behave like a perfect wife. Absolutely not. Never."

She placed a pen on top of the file before walking back to the bed.

"You have to sign it," she said as she pulled the duvet over herself.

A tear escaped his eye.

He wiped it away quickly.

"Don't turn off the lights. Just lower them... I don't like darkness."

Her voice echoed softly through the room.

Aakash's POV —

A contract?

Really?

Aah... I can't handle all of this right now. Come on. I never imagined my life would turn out like this, Ira. I thought I'd make everything perfect.

But I think you're right.

It's all my fault.

I was too harsh on you.

That's not how a man should behave with the woman he loves.

I'm so sorry, Ira.

My thoughts wouldn't stop piling up as I sat on the lawn chair, my precious diary clutched tightly against my chest.

I uncapped my pen, and before I could open a fresh page, a paper slipped out of the diary. It landed gently on my lap.

I picked it up with the utmost care.

Because that paper held someone incredibly precious.

Ira.

My wife.

My entire world.

I held the photograph carefully and brought it to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss against her forehead in the picture.

"I love you, Ira.

I never knew what love truly was.

I always made fun of poetry, romantic movies, even the couples around me. But now... I get it.

I finally understand how ridiculously a person can love someone they barely even know.

How am I supposed to keep my distance from you when every beat of my heart belongs only to you?

How am I supposed to calm my mind when all I want is to hold you in my arms as though you're my entire world?

Please...

Please don't punish me like this.

I really want you to be happy.

I know you're hurting, and it's because of me.

But please... give me one chance, Ira.

I need you."

I rubbed my face before pouring every single thought onto the pages of my diary.

When my heart finally felt a little lighter, I closed it and walked back inside the mansion.

It was four in the morning now.

I had stayed away from her the entire night.

It's strange how my room smells like her now.

The moment I entered, my eyes landed on her.

She was sleeping so peacefully.

Like a child.

The duvet had slipped over one of her legs, while the other had wandered onto my side of the bed.

Her hands were tightly clutching my pillow.

Her lips rested in the cutest little pout.

And her cheeks...

Ahhh...

Those chubby strawberries are my favourite.

How can you be so cute after literally flipping my entire life upside down?

I wondered to myself.

The thought of touching her crossed my mind—just once, only to move that loose strand of hair away from her face.

But then...

Her words echoed inside my head.

I shouldn't even dare touch her.

I walked towards the closet and took out a pillow for myself.

I looked at the couch.

Then at the empty space beside her.

I lay down on the couch, but it kept poking at me with discomfort.

I sat up straight.

Then looked down at the floor.

Yeah...

That's it.

You're sleeping on the floor, Dr. Rajput.

I smiled to myself.

Placing the pillow on the floor, I lay down.

It was uncomfortable.

But the warmth of her being just five feet away was enough for me to fall asleep.

It didn't take long before sleep finally claimed me, my mind drifting quietly into dreams.

Author's POV —

As the first rays of morning sunlight fell across his face, he woke up out of habit.

He picked up the pillow from the floor and quietly placed it back on the couch. Rubbing his face, he walked towards the balcony and slid the glass door open.

Barefoot, he stepped onto the wooden flooring, the coolness slowly seeping through his body. He let out a soft yawn before stretching his arms above his head, eventually folding his hands together as he silently prayed for peace to accompany the new morning.

After a few moments, he stepped back into the room.

His eyes immediately found her.

She was sleeping peacefully—completely sprawled across his side of the bed. The duvet had fallen onto the floor once again, yet she remained fast asleep. Her breaths came in slow, soothing puffs as her chest rose and fell with every calm inhale.

"I wonder... this baby is my wife now," he chuckled to himself.

He walked towards the bed, picked up the duvet from the floor, and carefully draped it over her.

The warmth made her react instantly.

She curled up adorably in her sleep, unconsciously rolling towards the edge of the bed.

His reflexes kicked in immediately.

Before she could slip any further, his hands reached out and caught her securely in his arms.

He looked down at his completely unbothered baby, sleeping without the slightest concern in the world.

A smile slowly spread across his face.

Carefully, he shifted her back to the centre of the bed.

Then another worry crossed his mind.

What if she rolled over again?

Without making a sound, he picked up the extra pillows and arranged them around her, creating little pillow walls as though he were protecting a tiny child from falling.

A small, helpless smile escaped his lips.

Because, to him...

She really was.

An absolutely adorable baby.

The shrill ring of her alarm pierced the silence, drawing an irritated groan from Shashi. Still half-asleep, she blindly reached for her phone, patting around the bed until her fingers finally found it. Without opening her eyes, she silenced the alarm and instinctively pressed the phone against her ear as though answering a call.

"Aahhhh... aaj hospital nahi jaungi toh chalega nahi kyaaaaaa???" (Ahhh... can't I just skip going to the hospital today?)

Silence.

After a few seconds, realization slowly dawned on her. She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared blankly at the screen before slapping her forehead.

"Jhalli kahi ki." (What an idiot I am.)

She let out an embarrassed sigh and stretched lazily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Then, in the very next heartbeat, her entire body stiffened.

I'm married.

The thought struck her like lightning.

Her eyes flew open, and she practically jumped out of bed, rushing toward the washroom—only for her feet to become hopelessly tangled in the thick duvet. She stumbled, nearly losing her balance, and spent the next few seconds struggling to free herself from the stubborn blanket before finally escaping its grasp.

"Meri hi dushman hai." (You're my own enemy.)

Muttering under her breath, she disappeared into the washroom.

Within fifteen minutes, she stepped back into the room, her damp hair falling over her shoulders as she searched through the wardrobe for something appropriate to wear. She paused, suddenly remembering she was no longer dressing only for herself.

She was a newlywed now.

After a moment's thought, she chose a deep crimson sleeveless suit embroidered delicately with golden thread. The rich colour complemented the vibrant red bangles adorning her wrists, while the mangalsutra resting gracefully around her neck completed the look with quiet elegance.

She was fastening a pair of delicate silver anklets when Aakash walked into the dressing room.

Leaning casually against the doorframe, he smiled.

"I never knew mornings could be this beautiful."

"Huh?" she asked, looking at him through the mirror with visible confusion.

He coughed softly before turning towards the balcony.

"I mean... the sky. It's so beautiful, isn't it?"

A small smile tugged at Shashi's lips.

"Oh... hmm."

She lowered her gaze again and finished fastening the anklets around her feet.

Just then, a knock echoed through the room.

"I'll get it," Aakash said.

Expecting one of the household staff with their morning coffee, he casually opened the door.

Instead, standing outside was Akriti.

She carried an enormous royal blue box decorated with golden floral motifs and satin ribbons. Judging by the way she held it, it was considerably heavy.

"Good morning," she greeted with a cheerful grin before placing the box into Aakash's arms.

The sudden weight nearly made him lose his balance.

Without sparing him another glance, she walked straight into the dressing room.

"Good morning, nayi-naveli dulhan." (Good morning, newlywed bride.)

Shashi smiled warmly.

"Good morning, Mrs. Rajput."

Akriti stopped in her tracks and turned dramatically.

"Yeh kya baat hui?" (What kind of formality is this?)

She folded her arms, pretending to look offended.

"Ek hi ghar mein reh kar bhi tum mujhe 'Mrs. Rajput' hi bulaogi? Nah... bilkul suit nahi karta." (We're living in the same house and you'll still call me 'Mrs. Rajput'? No... that doesn't suit us at all.)

She softened immediately.

"Mujhe 'Bhabhi' bulao... ya phir sirf Akriti bhi chalega." (Call me 'Bhabhi'... or simply Akriti if you like.)

Shashi chuckled.

"Okay... good morning, Bhabhi."

"Haan, yeh hui na baat." (Now that's much better.)

Akriti beamed with satisfaction before exchanging a knowing glance with Aakash, who simply smiled.

Then she looked at him again.

"Chal, ab tu bahar nikal." (Come on, now get out.)

"Bhabhiii..." he whined dramatically.

"Kya 'Bhabhi'?" (What 'Bhabhi'?)

She pointed firmly towards the door.

"Nikal. Mujhe isse taiyaar karna hai." (Out. I have to get her ready.)

Aakash frowned in confusion.

"Taiyaar hi toh hai. Itni sundar lag rahi hai." (She's already ready. She looks so beautiful.)

Akriti rolled her eyes.

"Haan haan, no doubt tumhari biwi bahut sundar hai." (Yes, yes. No doubt your wife is beautiful.)

She gently opened the decorated box.

"Lekin aaj ise saree pehenni hogi. Pooja bhi toh hai." (But today she has to wear a saree. We have the puja as well.)

"Oh..."

Aakash nodded obediently.

"Oh ke bacche..." (Don't just stand there...)

Akriti shoved his neatly folded clothes into his arms.

"Ab nikal. Aur apne kapde bhi le ja. Humare room mein jaake taiyaar ho jaana." (Now leave. Take your clothes with you and get ready in our room.)

Realizing he had officially lost the argument, Aakash sighed dramatically before grabbing his phone and walking out.

"Theek hai..." (Fine...)

Still shaking his head, he disappeared towards Sarthak and Akriti's bedroom.

The moment the door clicked shut, Akriti opened the ornate box.

Nestled inside, wrapped carefully in soft tissue paper, lay a breathtaking blush-pink Banarasi silk saree. Intricate silver zari vines spread across the fabric like moonlight woven into silk, while the broad border shimmered delicately with handcrafted embroidery.

Shashi's eyes widened.

"Bhabhi... yeh toh bahut sundar hai." (Bhabhi... it's so beautiful.)

"Tumhare liye hi toh hai." (It's for you.)

Akriti smiled.

"Chalo, jaldi badal lo."

Shashi nodded before hesitating.

"Bhabhi..."

"Hmm?"

"Mujhe saree pehenni hi nahi aati." (I don't know how to wear a saree.)

Akriti laughed softly.

"Mujhe pehle hi pata tha." (I already knew.)

Within a few minutes, Shashi stood dressed in her matching blouse and petticoat while Akriti expertly pleated the six yards of silk around her.

With practiced hands, she tucked the neat pleats into the waistband before carefully arranging the graceful pallu across Shashi's shoulder.

Shashi quietly observed every movement, fascinated by how effortlessly Akriti transformed a long piece of fabric into something so elegant.

As she adjusted the final pleats, Akriti spoke gently.

"Mujhe pata hai naye ghar mein aakar sabke saath ghulna-milna aasaan nahi hota." (I know it isn't easy to adjust to a new home and a new family.)

Her fingers continued smoothing the fabric.

"Lekin ek baat yaad rakhna." (But remember one thing.)

She met Shashi's eyes through the mirror.

"Sarthak tumhe apni beti maanta hai." (Sarthak considers you his daughter.)

Her smile carried warmth that instantly eased Shashi's nervous heart.

"Is ghar mein kabhi kisi baat ke liye hichkichana mat." (Never hesitate about anything in this house.)

Shashi gave a small nod.

"I'll remember that."

Akriti tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Waise bhi..." (Besides...)

She laughed softly.

"Unhe hamesha se beti chahiye thi." (He always wanted a daughter.)

"Lekin hume Aarav hua." (But we were blessed with Aarav.)

She smiled affectionately.

"Jis din unhone tumhe pehli baar dekha tha, ussi din tumhe apni beti maan liya." (The day he first saw you, he accepted you as his daughter.)

Emotion flickered across Shashi's face.

After a brief silence, she spoke hesitantly.

"Bhabhi... ek baat poochun?" (Bhabhi... may I ask you something?)

"Haan, poochho na." (Of course, ask.)

Shashi lowered her gaze.

"Humari caste bhi alag hai... phir bhi yeh arranged marriage kaise hui?" (Our castes are different... then how did this arranged marriage happen?)

There was genuine curiosity in her voice, mixed with uncertainty.

Akriti smiled knowingly.

"Meri aur Sarthak ki love marriage hui thi." (Sarthak and I had a love marriage.)

"Toh naturally woh intercaste thi." (So naturally, it was an inter-caste marriage.)

She shrugged lightly.

"Mere papa ke alawa kisi ko koi problem nahi thi." (Except for my father, no one had any objection.)

She paused before adding,

"Waise bhi..." (Besides...)

"Tumhare Dadaji ki bhi intercaste love marriage hui thi." (Even your grandfather's marriage was an inter-caste love marriage.)

"Tab se iss khandaan ne jaat-paat ko importance dena hi chhod diya." (Since then, this family stopped giving importance to caste.)

Her voice softened.

"Aur tumhari shaadi isliye hui kyunki Maa... aur hum sabko tum bahut pasand ho." (And your marriage happened because Maa... and all of us had grown very fond of you.)

She affectionately tapped Shashi's forehead.

"Zyada socha mat karo." (Don't overthink so much.)

A smile finally bloomed on Shashi's face.

Akriti stepped back to admire her work before gently adjusting the pallu one last time.

"Yeh saree kaafi heavy hai, baccha." (This saree is quite heavy, dear.)

"Pooja khatam hote hi change kar lena." (Change out of it once the puja is over.)

"Okay."

Akriti reached into her jewellery box and handed Shashi a delicate pair of silver jhumkas.

She helped her wear them before finally placing a tiny crimson bindi between her brows.

The transformation was breathtaking.

The soft pink silk glowed against her complexion, while the red bangles, mangalsutra, and vermilion in her hairline completed the image of a newlywed bride with effortless grace.

Akriti couldn't help smiling proudly.

"Ab hui meri dulhan taiyaar." (Now my bride is truly ready.)

Shashi laughed shyly.

As they stepped out of the room, Akriti suddenly stopped.

"Ruko!" (Wait!)

Shashi looked back.

"Itni sundar lag rahi ho... pehle balcony mein kuch photos lete hain." (You look so beautiful... let's take a few pictures on the balcony first.)

Shashi laughed softly.

"Theek hai." (Alright.)

And together, the two women walked towards the balcony, sunlight spilling across the marble floor as the beginning of another beautiful memory quietly unfolded.

By the time they finished taking pictures, the morning sun had risen higher, bathing the palace in a warm golden glow. The breeze danced gently through the open balcony, teasing the loose strands of Shashi's hair and making the delicate pallu of her saree flutter behind her.

Akriti lowered her phone, admiring the photographs with satisfaction.

"Perfect," she declared proudly. "Tum sach mein kisi rajkumari se kam nahi lag rahi." (You truly look no less than a princess.)

Shashi laughed softly, shaking her head.

"Bhabhi..." she murmured, embarrassed.

"Arre sach keh rahi hoon." (I'm telling the truth.)

Akriti slipped her phone into her pocket before gently taking Shashi's hand.

"Chalo. Sab neeche intezaar kar rahe honge." (Come on. Everyone must be waiting downstairs.)

They walked out of the room together, Akriti deliberately staying a step behind her.

The marble staircase curved elegantly through the centre of the mansion, its carved wooden railing polished to perfection. Sunlight streamed through the towering stained-glass windows, painting fleeting splashes of crimson, sapphire, and emerald across the pristine white floor.

With one hand lightly holding her saree, Shashi carefully descended each step, still getting accustomed to the unfamiliar weight of the silk draped around her.

Every movement she made was slow and graceful.

Downstairs, the household had already gathered.

Servants moved quietly between the hall and the dining area, making the final arrangements for the Satyanarayan Puja. The elders exchanged conversations over steaming cups of tea while Aarav happily chased after one of the family dogs, his cheerful laughter echoing through the mansion.

Aakash, meanwhile, stood near one of the large windows with Harsh.

The two friends were deeply immersed in an argument that only they seemed capable of understanding.

"I'm telling you, that's impossible."

"It isn't impossible."

"It literally is."

"It isn't."

Harsh folded his arms.

"Fine. Then prove it."

"I will."

"You can't."

"I can."

"You—"

His words came to an abrupt halt.

Aakash wasn't listening anymore.

Harsh frowned.

"...Hello?"

No response.

He followed Aakash's gaze.

And instantly understood.

Descending the staircase, wrapped in blush-pink silk, was Shashi.

For a fleeting moment, the world around Aakash disappeared.

The conversations.

The footsteps.

The laughter.

The ringing of utensils.

Everything faded into silence.

His breath caught somewhere in his chest.

She looked...

Beautiful wasn't enough.

The soft Banarasi saree flowed around her with effortless grace, every silver thread catching the morning light like scattered stardust. The elegant pallu rested perfectly over her shoulder, while delicate jhumkas swayed gently with every careful step she took.

Her hair fell in soft waves down her back, glossy as flowing silk, and the tiny crimson bindi resting between her brows completed the picture so perfectly that Aakash forgot how to breathe.

It was exactly how he had imagined her.

No...

Even his imagination had fallen short.

This was the woman who now carried his surname.

His wife.

A quiet smile unconsciously spread across his face.

His eyes refused to leave her.

He watched every step.

Every blink.

Every tiny expression that crossed her face as she cautiously made her way downstairs.

He was so hopelessly lost in admiring her that he didn't even notice Harsh waving a hand in front of his face.

"Aakash?"

Nothing.

Harsh leaned closer.

"Aakash!"

Still nothing.

Rolling his eyes, Harsh raised his hand and smacked the back of Aakash's head.

Thwack.

Aakash jerked.

"Haan...? Haan... kya?" (Huh...? What?)

He blinked several times, looking around as though he had just returned from another world.

Harsh stared at him in disbelief.

"Kya 'haan kya'?" (What do you mean 'what'?)

"Tab se awaaz laga raha hoon!" (I've been calling you this whole time!)

The others turned toward the commotion.

Ishika followed Aakash's line of sight before a mischievous grin spread across her face.

"Arey, rehne do." (Oh, leave him.)

She nudged Harsh with her elbow.

"Niharne do apni biwi ko." (Let him admire his wife.)

Several family members chuckled.

Aakash looked everywhere except at them.

Isha folded her arms dramatically.

"Hey Bhagwan..." (Oh, God...)

She sighed theatrically.

"Aise mat ghooro use." (Don't stare at her like that.)

"Na jaane kya soch rahi hogi bechari." (Who knows what the poor girl must be thinking.)

Harsh immediately joined in.

"Bilkul." (Exactly.)

"Lag raha hai jaise pehli baar ladki dekhi ho." (You look like you've seen a girl for the first time.)

Laughter erupted throughout the hall.

Even Sarthak couldn't suppress his smile.

Aakash rubbed the back of his neck, his ears turning noticeably red.

"Bas karo yaar..." (Stop it, guys...)

His voice had become unusually quiet.

Unfortunately for him, that only encouraged everyone even more.

Ishika burst into laughter.

"Arre dekho!" (Look!)

"Rajput sahab sharma bhi lete hain!" (Mr. Rajput can blush too!)

"Historic moment!" Harsh announced dramatically.

"Isse frame karwa dete hain." (Let's frame this moment.)

Aakash shot him a warning glare.

"Harsh."

"Haan?"

"Chup."

(Quiet.)

Harsh lifted both hands innocently.

"Theek hai." (Fine.)

Aakash exhaled slowly before stealing another glance toward Shashi.

She had reached the last step.

Completely unaware of the conversation happening across the hall.

Or perhaps...

She was aware.

Because the faint pink tint spreading across her cheeks suggested she had heard enough to understand exactly why everyone was laughing.

Their eyes met.

For only a heartbeat.

She quickly looked away.

Yet that single glance was enough to make Aakash smile again.

A warm, almost boyish smile.

One that none of his friends had ever seen before.

Harsh noticed it immediately.

"Oh ho..."

He leaned closer, lowering his voice.

"Gaya tu." (You're gone.)

Aakash didn't deny it.

He simply continued looking at Shashi.

And somehow...

That silence answered everything.

Just then, the calm voice of the family priest echoed through the mansion.

"Var-vadhu pooja ke liye sthan grahan kariye." (Bride and groom, please take your places for the puja.)

The conversations came to an immediate halt.

Everyone respectfully turned towards the palace temple.

Aakash walked forward, slowing his pace until he reached Shashi.

Without saying a word, he quietly matched his steps with hers.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, noticing her struggling slightly with the heavy saree, he discreetly slowed down even more so she wouldn't feel rushed.

Shashi noticed the silent gesture.

A tiny smile touched her lips.

Neither acknowledged it.

Neither needed to.

Side by side, they entered the palace temple together, where the sacred Satyanarayan Puja awaited the beginning of a new chapter in their married life.

The palace temple shimmered beneath the warm glow of countless brass diyas, their golden flames flickering gently against the intricately carved marble walls. Fresh garlands of marigold and jasmine draped every ornate pillar, filling the sacred space with their sweet fragrance. The soothing scent of sandalwood, camphor, and incense lingered in the air, wrapping the temple in an atmosphere of serenity and devotion.

At the centre of the mandir stood a low wooden chowki, draped in rich crimson silk. Upon it rested the beautifully adorned idol of Lord Satyanarayan, decorated with fresh flowers and a fragrant Tulsi garland. Beside the deity stood a polished silver kalash, filled with holy water, its mouth crowned with fresh mango leaves and a coconut wrapped neatly in a crimson chunri.

Family members quietly took their places, their voices gradually fading until silence embraced the temple.

The Rajpurohit adjusted the sacred cloth over his shoulder before seating himself opposite the newly married couple.

Aakash and Shashi sat side by side on embroidered asans, dressed in their traditional attire. Their hands remained respectfully folded, their expressions calm and reverent.

For the first time that morning, the mansion fell completely silent.

Pandit ji closed his eyes and lit the ghee lamp before the deity.

The steady flame illuminated the idol as he softly chanted,

"Om Shri Ganeshaya Namah."

(Obeisance to Lord Ganesha.)

The couple bowed their heads.

"Repeat after me."

"Om Shri Ganeshaya Namah."

(Together, they offered salutations to Lord Ganesha.)

Their voices blended in perfect unison.

The priest smiled faintly before sprinkling Gangajal around the altar, sanctifying the surroundings.

He picked up a handful of sacred rice and fragrant flowers before looking at them.

"Ab sankalp ke liye apne haathon mein pushp, akshata aur thoda jal lijiye." (Now, for the sacred resolve, please take flowers, sacred rice, and a little holy water in your hands.)

Both obeyed quietly.

Holding the offerings in their joined palms, they listened as Pandit ji began reciting the Sankalp in Sanskrit, invoking the sacred tithi, nakshatra, place, and purpose of the ceremony.

At every pause, he asked them to repeat only the concluding words.

"...Shri Satyanarayan Swami prityartham..."

(For the pleasure and blessings of Lord Satyanarayan.)

Together they repeated,

"Shri Satyanarayan Swami prityartham."

The priest nodded approvingly.

"Is jal ko dharti par chhod dijiye." (Now release the holy water onto the earth.)

They slowly opened their palms, allowing the sacred water to fall upon the marble floor.

The priest then gestured toward the silver kalash.

"Kalash ko dono haathon se sparsh kijiye." (Touch the sacred kalash with both hands.)

They reached forward together.

As their fingertips rested against the cool silver vessel, Vedic mantras echoed through the temple.

"Om Apo Va Idam Sarvam..."

The rhythmic chanting reverberated gently beneath the high domed ceiling.

Pandit ji offered sandalwood paste and fragrant flowers to the kalash, respectfully invoking the divine presence into it before placing fresh Tulsi leaves before Lord Vishnu.

"Bhagwan Vishnu ko Tulsi atyant priya hai." (Lord Vishnu holds Tulsi most dear.)

He handed several fresh leaves to the couple.

"Ek-ek karke arpan kijiye." (Offer them one by one.)

Shashi carefully picked up the first Tulsi leaf.

With quiet devotion, she placed it at the Lord's feet.

Aakash followed immediately after.

The priest continued chanting.

"Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya."

(I bow to Lord Vasudeva.)

He looked towards them.

"Saath mein kahiye." (Repeat together.)

"Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya."

The sacred mantra echoed repeatedly through the temple, each repetition filling the atmosphere with peace.

Nearby, the elders sat with folded hands, their eyes gently closed in prayer.

A silver thali containing sandalwood paste, kumkum, fresh flowers, and sacred rice was placed before the couple.

"Ab chandan aur pushp arpan kijiye." (Now offer the sandalwood paste and flowers.)

Together they offered the sacred items before the deity.

Every movement they made reflected quiet reverence.

Pandit ji then unfolded the beautifully bound sacred scripture.

"Ab Shri Satyanarayan Katha ka paath hoga." (Now the narration of the sacred Satyanarayan Katha shall begin.)

The temple once again fell silent.

Only the calm cadence of Sanskrit verses flowed through the hall as the Rajpurohit narrated the divine story of Lord Satyanarayan.

The family listened with unwavering attention.

Some kept their eyes closed in prayer.

Others remained fixed upon the deity.

Even little Aarav, usually incapable of sitting still, rested quietly beside Akriti, occasionally glancing curiously at the priest before mimicking the elders by folding his tiny hands.

The sight brought gentle smiles to everyone's faces.

Time seemed to slow within the sacred walls.

When the narration finally concluded, Pandit ji folded the scripture with utmost reverence before lighting a small piece of camphor inside the silver aarti lamp.

The brilliant white flame flickered brightly.

He looked toward the gathering.

"Sab log khade ho jaiye." (Everyone, please stand.)

The entire family rose together.

Aakash stood before Shashi, instinctively offering his hand.

She accepted it.

As she stepped forward, the heavy pleats of her saree became caught beneath her foot.

Before she could regain her balance, her body tilted forward.

A soft gasp escaped her lips.

In the very next instant, Aakash's arm circled firmly around her waist while his other hand caught hers.

She collided gently against his chest instead of the marble floor.

Everything around them seemed to disappear for a heartbeat.

His grip remained secure yet careful.

Protective.

"Easy," he whispered, so quietly that only she could hear.

Their eyes met.

Shashi's cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink.

"I... I'm okay."

Aakash gave the smallest nod before slowly helping her regain her footing.

Only once he was certain she was standing comfortably did he loosen his hold.

Neither of them noticed the amused smiles exchanged among the family members.

Akriti discreetly nudged Sarthak.

"Told you."

Sarthak merely smiled.

Pandit ji resumed the ceremony as though nothing had happened.

"Om Jai Lakshmi Ramana..."

The familiar melody of the aarti filled the temple.

One by one, every member of the Rajput family joined together.

The rhythmic ringing of temple bells blended beautifully with the devotional hymn while the golden flame circled gracefully before the deity.

The sacred chants echoed throughout the palace, carrying with them blessings for the newly married couple.

When the aarti concluded, Pandit ji stepped towards Aakash and Shashi.

"Pehle aap dono aarti lijiye." (You both may first receive the blessings of the aarti.)

They cupped their hands respectfully above the sacred flame before touching the blessed warmth to their foreheads and eyes.

The priest then offered charanamrit.

"Dahine haath se grahan kijiye." (Receive it with your right hand.)

Both accepted it with bowed heads before sipping the sacred offering.

Finally, he placed warm sheera prasad into their palms.

The aroma of roasted semolina, ghee, cardamom, and saffron drifted gently through the temple.

Raising his hand in blessing, Pandit ji smiled warmly.

"Bhagwan Shri Satyanarayan aap dono ko sukh, samriddhi aur dirgh dampatya jeevan ka aashirwad dein." (May Lord Satyanarayan bless you both with happiness, prosperity, and a long, blissful married life.)

"Ayushmaan bhava. Saubhagyavati bhava." (May the husband be blessed with a long life, and may the wife remain forever fortunate in her marriage.)

Aakash and Shashi lowered themselves together, touching the cool marble floor before the deity in reverence.

For a silent moment, both remained bowed, offering prayers known only to their hearts.

Then, rising together, they turned towards the family gathered behind them.

Without a word, they bent respectfully to seek the blessings of their elders.

One by one, warm hands rested upon their heads.

"Khush raho." (Stay happy.)

"Sada saath rehna." (Always stand by each other.)

"Bhagwan tum dono ko buri nazar se bachaye." (May God protect you both from every evil eye.)

Shashi quietly accepted every blessing, her heart growing lighter with each affectionate touch.

Standing beside her, Aakash stole a brief glance in her direction.

She looked peaceful.

Comfortable.

As though she no longer felt like a guest in the Rajput household.

For reasons he couldn't explain, that simple realization brought an indescribable sense of contentment to his heart.

Perhaps...

This truly was the beginning of home—for both of them.

After the Satyanarayan Puja concluded, the palace gradually returned to its usual liveliness. Servants carried away the ceremonial items while the elders settled into light-hearted conversations. The fragrance of incense still lingered through the halls, blending with the aroma of freshly prepared breakfast drifting in from the kitchen.

Meanwhile, the newlyweds had been gently ushered towards the kitchen for the next ritual.

According to the Rajput family's tradition, the Pehli Rasoi was never performed by the bride alone. They believed that a marriage was built on partnership from the very beginning, and so the first meal after the wedding was prepared together by husband and wife.

It wasn't merely a ritual.

It was a promise.

A promise that every responsibility in life would be shared.

Shashi had decided to prepare gajar ka halwa—a dessert she loved making and one that her mother often said carried warmth in every spoonful.

Aakash, naturally, had been assigned the less dangerous task.

Grating carrots.

The kitchen island was piled with bright orange carrot shavings while bowls of sugar, khoya, cardamom powder, chopped dry fruits, and fresh cream were neatly arranged nearby.

Aakash wiped his forehead dramatically.

"I think I've grated enough carrots to feed an entire kingdom."

Shashi couldn't help laughing.

"I only asked for one pan."

"I know."

He flexed his wrist dramatically.

"But my hand deserves compensation."

She rolled her eyes.

"Drama king."

He placed a hand over his heart.

"I prefer hardworking husband."

A tiny smile escaped her before she returned her attention to the large heavy-bottomed pan resting over a slow flame.

She stirred the halwa patiently, allowing the milk to reduce while the carrots softened into a rich, fragrant mixture. Soon, the entire kitchen filled with the irresistible aroma of roasted carrots, cardamom, and ghee.

For a brief while, only the gentle clinking of the spoon against the pan could be heard.

Aakash quietly watched her.

Without realizing it, Shashi had tucked the loose end of her saree securely into her waist so it wouldn't get in the way while cooking.

The simple gesture revealed the graceful curve of her waist beneath the neatly draped silk.

His eyes instinctively wandered there.

Don't look.

He immediately looked away.

Only for his gaze to drift back again a few moments later.

He silently cursed himself.

Control yourself, idiot.

Completely unaware of the internal battle happening beside her, Shashi continued stirring the halwa with full concentration.

A few seconds later, her eyes suddenly widened.

"Shit."

Aakash immediately straightened.

"Kuch chahiye aapko?" (Do you need something?)

She looked at him with genuine panic.

"Ji... woh dry fruits daalna toh hum bhool hi gaye." (We completely forgot to add the dry fruits.)

He glanced towards the neatly chopped almonds, cashews, and pistachios resting on the counter before smiling reassuringly.

"Haan toh koi baat nahi." (That's alright.)

"Abhi daal dete hain." (We'll add them now.)

He picked up the small pan lying nearby.

"Waise bhi aapne pehle hi chop kar diye the." (You had already chopped them.)

"Main inhe thode ghee mein roast kar deta hoon." (I'll roast them in a little ghee.)

Before she could protest, he had already melted a spoonful of ghee into a small pan.

Within moments, the dry fruits began sizzling gently, releasing a rich nutty aroma that blended beautifully with the halwa.

Shashi smiled.

"Thank you."

He simply nodded.

"No teamwork without teamwork."

While Aakash carefully stirred the roasting dry fruits, Shashi finally untucked her saree's pallu from her waist and gracefully rearranged the pleats over her shoulder.

Watching her struggle slightly with the heavy silk, Aakash spoke without looking directly at her.

"Subah se saat baar girte-girte bachi hain aap." (Since morning you've almost fallen seven times.)

His voice carried unmistakable amusement.

"Agar chahein toh change kar sakti hain." (If you want, you can change your clothes.)

Shashi smiled faintly.

"Nahi..." (No...)

She gently adjusted the pallu once more.

"Ab bas ek hi rasam baaki hai." (Only one ritual is left now.)

"Yeh ho jaaye..." (Once that's done...)

She sighed softly.

"...phir toh aaram hi hai na?" (...then I can finally rest, right?)

Aakash chuckled.

"Bilkul." (Absolutely.)

He sprinkled the roasted dry fruits into the halwa before mixing them evenly.

"Aur agar aap chahein..." (And if you want...)

"...toh khana khaane ke baad seedha so bhi sakti hain." (...you can go straight to sleep after lunch.)

Shashi laughed.

"Haan." (Yes.)

"I think I actually will."

The halwa was finally ready.

Its rich orange colour glistened beneath a generous drizzle of ghee, while the roasted dry fruits added a beautiful crunch across the top.

Satisfied, Shashi garnished it with a few strands of saffron before filling elegant silver dessert bowls.

Steam curled lazily into the air.

The aroma alone was enough to make anyone hungry.

Aakash picked up one serving tray while Shashi lifted the other.

Together, they walked towards the grand dining hall.

The moment they entered, Shashi's footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

Her eyes widened.

Laksha.

Her elder sister had arrived.

A wave of emotions crashed into her all at once.

Joy.

Relief.

And then—

Fear.

The contract.

The terrifying reminder of everything hidden beneath the surface of this marriage tightened painfully around her heart.

For a fleeting second, she forgot how to breathe.

No.

Not here.

Not now.

Taking a slow breath, she forced herself to compose her expression before placing the tray onto the dining table.

The next instant, she hurried towards Laksha.

"Didi!"

Laksha smiled warmly before opening her arms.

Shashi hugged her tightly.

For a few precious seconds, neither sister spoke.

Laksha gently stroked her hair before pulling back just enough to look at her properly.

"Kitni pyari lag rahi hai." (You look so beautiful.)

Shashi's smile finally became genuine.

"Ab aa hi gayi ho..." (Now that you've finally come...)

She slipped her hand into Laksha's.

"...toh jaldi chalo." (...come quickly.)

"Halwa kha lo." (You have to taste the halwa.)

Without waiting for an answer, she happily dragged her sister towards the dining table.

The family gradually settled into their seats.

Like always, every couple naturally chose to sit beside one another.

Aakash quietly pulled out the chair next to his own for Shashi before taking his seat beside her.

Once everyone had been served, he reached for her dessert bowl first.

Without saying anything, he placed it gently before her.

Only after ensuring she had her serving did he fill his own bowl.

Shashi noticed.

She looked at him for a brief moment.

He merely smiled, gesturing for her to begin.

She hesitated before taking the very first spoonful.

Only after seeing her eat did Aakash finally lift his own spoon.

It was such a small gesture.

So quiet that almost no one noticed.

Almost.

Akriti exchanged an amused glance with Sarthak.

He noticed.

She noticed.

Even Laksha noticed.

But no one said a word.

The first bite melted effortlessly on everyone's tongue.

Rich.

Creamy.

Perfectly balanced.

The sweetness wasn't overpowering, the carrots retained just enough texture, and the gentle warmth of cardamom lingered pleasantly after every bite.

For a moment, the dining hall fell silent.

Then came the inevitable chorus.

"Wah!" (Wonderful!)

"Bahut badhiya!" (This is excellent!)

"Bilkul Maa ke haath jaisa." (Just like Mother's cooking.)

Shashi looked around shyly as praise came from every direction.

Aakash glanced at her with quiet pride.

He hadn't expected anything less.

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THANKS FOR READING. <3

Word count ~ 6634.

STAY HAPPY AND KIND