Chapter 8

The Doshi house was abuzz with energy, decorated with vibrant marigold garlands, fairy lights, and intricate rangolis adorning the entrance. The air smelled of fresh flowers and sweets, mingling with the soft hum of music and chatter from family and friends. In the center of the hall, Niharika sat on a cushioned stool, surrounded by her cousins and friends, her hands resting delicately on a pillow as the mehendi artist worked skillfully on her palms.

The mehendi was intricate, with swirls and patterns climbing up to her elbows. The artist paused and asked, "Which name should I write in your design?"

Before Niharika could respond, her mother, Yangeeta, smiled warmly and said, "M. Write an M for Mayank."

Niharika felt her cheeks heat up, but she stayed silent, biting the inside of her cheek to hide her embarrassment. The artist nodded, weaving the letter seamlessly into the design.

As the mehendi dried, the women around her began to tease. "Niharika, you know what they say? The darker the mehendi, the more your husband loves you!"

Her younger cousins giggled, and even her mom joined in. Niharika tried to brush it off with a shy smile, though her mind lingered on the thought of Mayank. Does he even care about all this?

~•~

Meanwhile, at the Datta house, the atmosphere was equally festive. Maya had dragged Mayank into the living room, where mehendi was being applied to everyone's hands.

"Mom, this is ridiculous. I'm the groom. Why do I need mehendi?" he protested, though not forcefully enough to escape her grip.

"It's just a symbol, beta," Maya said with a mischievous smile. "At least let them put something small, for tradition's sake."

Mayank sighed, giving in to her persistence. "Fine. But nothing elaborate."

The mehendi artist grinned and quickly scribbled something on his palm. When he looked down, he saw the name "Niharika" written delicately amidst a small floral design.

He stared at it for a moment, a strange feeling settling in his chest. She does have a beautiful name, he thought absentmindedly before shaking his head and stepping away.

~•~

The next day, both families gathered in a large hall decorated in hues of gold and white. The scent of jasmine and roses filled the air, blending with the upbeat music as performers practiced their steps.

Niharika walked in, dressed in an elegant white lehenga with silver embroidery that shimmered under the lights. Her hair was styled in loose waves cascading over her shoulder, and she wore statement earrings that added a touch of glamour. Her makeup was soft and minimal, accentuating her naturally radiant features.

Mayank arrived shortly after, wearing a tailored black suit with a white shirt and a sleek black tie. His sharp features and confident demeanor drew attention as he walked into the hall, his presence commanding the room without effort.

Their eyes met briefly across the room, but both quickly looked away, unsure of how to react.

The sangeet began with choreographed performances by family members and friends. Cheers and laughter filled the air as each act brought smiles and claps from the audience.

Toward the end of the night, the hosts called out, "Now it's time for our bride and groom to take the stage!"

Niharika's heart skipped a beat as she looked around nervously. "I didn't practice anything," she whispered to her mom, but the crowd was already urging her and Mayank forward.

Mayank extended his hand toward her. "Come on," he said, his voice steady. "We'll figure it out."

Hesitant, Niharika placed her hand in his, and they walked to the center of the stage. The opening notes of a romantic Bollywood song began to play.

"Janam janam, saath chalna yunhi, kasam tumhe kasam..."

Mayank placed one hand on her waist and held her hand with the other, guiding her gently. "Just follow my lead," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

Niharika nodded, unsure of what to do but trusting his confidence. As they moved, her initial nervousness began to fade.

She noticed the way his fingers fit perfectly around hers, the way his touch was firm yet careful. His proximity made her heart race, but not out of fear—it was something else entirely.

Mayank, on the other hand, found himself paying attention to details he'd never noticed before. The way her dupatta sparkled under the lights, how her eyes glimmered when she looked up at him briefly, and the soft scent of her jasmine perfume that lingered between them.

"Meri subah ho tumhi, aur tumhi shaam ho..."

He spun her around, and she stumbled slightly, catching his shoulder for balance. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away.

"You're not bad at this," he said with a small smirk.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "You're not so bad yourself."

As the music built up, he pulled her closer for a dip, his hand steady on her back as she leaned into him. The cheers and whistles from the crowd faded into the background as they both became acutely aware of the moment—his hand firm on her waist, her fingers gripping his shoulder, their breaths mingling in the closeness.

"Meri hoke humesha hi rehena, kabhi na kehena alvida..."

When the song ended, the crowd erupted into applause. Mayank and Niharika stepped back, releasing each other, both a little flushed.

"Not bad for someone who claimed she didn't practice," he teased softly as they walked off the stage.

She gave him a shy smile, feeling a strange warmth in her chest she couldn't quite explain.

~•~

The sangeet night was far from over. After their impromptu dance, Niharika found herself seated at the edge of the gathering, her heart still racing. She sipped on a glass of lemonade, her mind replaying the moments on the stage. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so... alive.

From across the room, Mayank stood near a group of cousins who were chatting animatedly. He wasn't paying much attention, his focus instead on the girl in the white lehenga sitting under the golden fairy lights. He caught himself staring and quickly looked away, trying to push the thought out of his mind.

~•~

As the night wound down, Niharika's mom, Yangeeta, came over and sat beside her, adjusting her dupatta lovingly. "You both danced beautifully, beta. It was as if you've known each other forever."

Niharika smiled faintly, avoiding her mother's gaze. "We just followed the music, that's all."

Her mom chuckled. "Sometimes, life is like a dance. You don't need to know the steps; you just need to trust your partner."

Niharika didn't respond, but the words lingered in her mind.

On the other side of the hall, Maya cornered Mayank as he grabbed a glass of water.

"Hmm, so, you do know how to dance," she teased, nudging his arm.

"It was just a dance, Mom," he replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Sure, just a dance," Maya said, smirking. "But it didn't seem like that to us. You two looked so... comfortable."

"Stop overanalyzing everything," he muttered, walking away, but his mother's words stayed with him.

~•~

Back at the Doshi house, the family and guests lingered for chai and snacks. Niharika, still in her white lehenga, walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. The decorations were still glowing, and the soft hum of conversations filled the air.

As she poured water into her glass, her father, Abhijeet, entered the kitchen. "Tired?" he asked gently.

"A little," she admitted, offering him a small smile.

He leaned against the counter, looking at his daughter thoughtfully. "You handled yourself well tonight. I'm proud of you."

Niharika paused, looking down at her hands still adorned with mehendi. "Baba, do you think... this marriage will work?"

Abhijeet sighed, walking over to place a hand on her shoulder. "No one can guarantee anything in life, beta. But I've seen how Mayank looks at you, even if he doesn't realize it yet. And I've seen how you carry yourself around him. Give it time."

Niharika nodded, her father's words comforting her, even if only slightly.

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