Chapter 54: ✿Chapter 48✿

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रौशनी में नहाई ये रात सुहानी,

जगमग दीपों की है एक कहानी।

जैसे दीप जलते हैं प्रेम की लौ में,

वैसे ही मैं जलूं तेरी यादों की छाँव में।

चमके आंगन मेरा तेरी हँसी से,

जैसे दीप जलते हैं प्रेम की खुशी से।

इस दिवाली बस इतना कर दे,

मेरी दुनिया रोशन, तू मेरा दीया बन दे।

◇

A

uthor's POV

The house was brimming with chaos as the family prepared for Diwali. The air buzzed with excitement, the sound of laughter and chatter mixing with the clinking of utensils and the faint hum of festive songs playing in the background.

At the center of it all was Maanyata, who had taken the house on her head, orchestrating every little detail like a general preparing for battle.

Why all the extra fuss this year? Because it was their first Diwali with their bahu, Avantika. And Maanyata was determined to make it perfect.

"We'll conduct a yagya for the house this Diwali," Maanyata declared, her voice loud enough to carry through the hall.

She'd chosen the temple of [ Tell me in comment section] for the occasion, adding an air of tradition and grandeur to the celebration.

Pakhi and Anjali followed her like shadows, nodding and responding to her instructions as she pointed left and right, directing them to handle everything from the decoration arrangements to the kitchen preparations.

"Pakhi, check the flowers again! Aur woh rangoli ke colors, are they ready?" Maanyata called out, her hands on her hips as she surveyed the bustling living room.

"Haan, Maa, I'll check right now!" Pakhi replied, rushing toward the storeroom.

"Anjali, diya aur mithai ka order confirm ho gaya?"

"Ho gaya, Maaji" Anjali answered quickly, juggling a tray of marigolds in one hand and her phone in the other.

The rest of the family watched from a distance, some amused, some wisely choosing to stay out of Maanyata's way.

After all, when Maanyata set her mind on something, there was no stopping her.

Meanwhile, Avantika, who had been quietly helping with smaller tasks, stood near the staircase, watching the whirlwind of activity unfold.

This was her first Diwali with the family, and though she was still adjusting to the overwhelming energy, she couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at her lips.

Maanyata was still pacing around the hall, ensuring everything was perfect, while Ajay and Vijay watched with amusement.

"Maa ko baithne ko kaho koi," Ajay said, shaking his head.

"Aree Maa, itna kyu pareshan ho rahi hain aap?" Vijay added, trying to calm her down.

Meanwhile, Avyansh had just come downstairs, standing beside Avantika. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing around before asking Pakhi, "Maa, mere kapde kahan hain?".

Pakhi, who was already halfway up the stairs, stopped and turned.

"Haan, it's in my room. Wait, I'll bring it. Avantika, come with me too; your clothes are with me as well. Get ready quickly, both of you!" She gestured for Avantika to follow.

Just then, Dev stormed into the hall, wearing only trousers and a vest. "Maa, what about my clothes?" he asked, his voice loud enough to echo through the living room.

Anjali, carrying a tray of diyas, narrowed her eyes at him. "Dhoti pehnoge?" she asked, raising a brow.

Dev looked horrified. "Nahi!" he protested immediately.

"Toh jo kapde hain tumhare paas, woh pehen lo. Mujhse mat puchho," Anjali said, rolling her eyes before walking away.

"Mummy, yaar!" Dev groaned dramatically before stomping back into his room.

In Pakhi's Room

Pakhi handed over two big packets-one to Avyansh and one to Avantika. "This is yours, and this is yours," she said.

Avyansh picked up the packet, feeling its weight. "Maa, yeh heavy nahi hai thoda zyada?" he asked, looking unsure.

Pakhi shook her head and asked.

"Tum Avantika ke kapde pehnoge?" she teased.

Avyansh scoffed. "Nahi, matlab... inke liye keh raha hoon," he clarified, turning to look at Avantika.

"I am okay with it," she reassured, not wanting to disappoint Maanyata, who had high hopes for today's celebration.

Time Skip

Avyansh emerged from the guest room, dressed in an elegant traditional outfit. His deep red and white attire complemented the festive aura, the fabric draping perfectly over his frame.

Meanwhile, Avantika, with the help of Devika, finished getting dressed. The lehenga was heavier than she was used to, but the way it flowed around her made her feel regal.

Devika, dressed in a beautiful pink Anarkali, stood beside her, adjusting Avantika's bangles. "Bhabhi, you look breathtaking," she said with a proud smile.

Avantika took a deep breath, looking at her reflection. "Yeh sab... bohot zyada lag raha hai," she murmured.

Devika shook her head. "Nahi, Bhabhi! You look like a queen, and today is your first Diwali in this house. You deserve to shine."

Just then, a knock on the door made them turn. "Ho gaya?" Avyansh's voice came from outside.

Devika smirked, walking over to open the door. As Avyansh stepped in, his eyes instantly found Avantika.

And for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

She stood near the mirror, bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun. The deep maroon lehenga she wore shimmered under the golden light, its intricate embroidery catching every flicker of movement.

The sheer dupatta lifted ever so slightly with the breeze, creating an almost ethereal halo around her.

But it wasn't just the outfit-it was her.

Her short hair framed her face perfectly, the loose strands brushing against her cheek in a way that made her look effortlessly elegant.

The deep kohl outlining her eyes made them even more striking, almost hypnotic. She absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, making her delicate jhumkas sway in response.

On her wrist sat a simple bracelet-one Avyansh had gifted her earlier. It didn't quite match her attire, yet she still wore it.

His gaze trailed lower, where vermilion filled the parting of her hair, a stark contrast against her dark locks. The nuptial chain rested against her collarbone, the only neckpiece she adorned. A quiet reminder of what bound them together.

Lost in his own thoughts, Avyansh didn't notice how long he had been staring until Devika's amused voice shattered the moment.

"Muh toh band karo, uncle," she teased, her tone dripping with mischief.

He didn't acknowledge her, his focus still fixed on Avantika. She had lowered her gaze, her fingers clutching the edges of her dupatta, her cheeks now dusted with a faint pink hue.

Devika, clearly entertained, winked at Avantika before strolling out of the room. "Bhabhi, best of luck," she whispered, leaving them alone.

Avyansh finally took a step closer, drawn in by something he couldn't quite explain.

Avantika shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Ache nahi lag rahe?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Aap aise kyun dekh rahe hain?" Her words pulled him out of his trance. He blinked, inhaling sharply before running a hand through his hair. His throat felt dry, and before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.

"Shukr manaiye ki bas hum aapko dekh hi rahe hain..." His voice was lower than he intended, carrying something even he couldn't fully comprehend.

Her brows furrowed for a second before realization dawned in her eyes. A quiet gasp escaped her lips, and the pink on her cheeks deepened.

She quickly looked away, pretending to adjust her bangles, but Avyansh didn't miss the way her hands trembled just slightly.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. At least he wasn't the only one affected.

He leaned in, just enough for his voice to reach her ears.

"Sach bataiye...Humare jaan lene ka irrada hai kya apka?" His tone held a teasing edge, but there was an undeniable honesty in his words.

Avantika's eyes snapped at him. Have not heard correctly what he said "K-kya?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Kuch nahi," he murmured, stepping back before his restraint completely abandoned him.

She exhaled in relief, though she bit her lower lip in an attempt to suppress a smile. Avyansh caught it, and the sight made something in his chest tighten.

This woman...

Forcing himself to focus, he extended a hand. "Chaliye, temple ke liye late ho raha hai."

Avantika hesitated for just a moment before slipping her hand into his. Her fingers were warm against his palm, sending an odd yet familiar warmth coursing through him.

And just like that, with his heart beating a little harder than usual, they walked out together.

____

As they entered the temple, the soothing aroma of incense filled the air, and the rhythmic chants of prayers echoed in the sacred space.

The head priest, an elderly man with a divine aura, stood at the entrance, waiting for them. Beside him, his shishya observed quietly, hands folded in reverence.

"Swagatam! Swagatam! Deepavali ke pavan avsar par aap sabhi ko hardik shubhkamnayein!" the priest greeted warmly, sprinkling holy water upon them.

Everyone bowed in respect, touching his feet and joining their hands in prayer.

When Avantika and Avyansh stepped forward, the priest smiled knowingly and placed his hand gently over their heads.

"Yug yug tak tumhara bandhan atoot rahe. Sukh-samridhi tumhare jeevan mein sada pravisht rahe. Tum dono ka saath Shiv aur Parvati ki tarah avinashi ho."

Avantika lowered her gaze, her fingers tightening around the end of her dupatta, while Avyansh simply nodded, his face unreadable.

Meanwhile, a few steps away, Ruhaan stood with his phone pressed against his ear, his expression taut with concern. His brows were drawn together, and he kept rubbing the back of his neck-his telltale sign of stress.

"Ruhaan bhai , kya hua?" Devika asked softly, stepping closer.

He looked up briefly, forcing a small smile. "Haan?..bas kaam ka pressure hai."

But the way his grip tightened on his phone, and the flicker of unease in his eyes, said otherwise.

The sacred space inside the temple was now set for the Yagya. The air was thick with the rich scent of sandalwood, ghee, and incense, mingling with the rhythmic chanting of Vedic mantras.

The havan kund burned brightly, its flames flickering as the priest continued his recitations.

Avantika and Avyansh sat beside each other, their hands folded in devotion. The golden-red glow of the fire cast a warm hue on their faces, making Avantika's deep red lehenga shimmer under the light.

She stole a quick glance at Avyansh, who sat straight, his expression calm yet intense, fully immersed in the rituals.

"Om Agnaye Swaha, Agnaye Idam Na Mama..."

As the priest chanted, Avyansh and Avantika took pinches of ghee-dipped samagri and gently offered it into the fire. Each offering sent a trail of fragrant smoke curling into the air, symbolizing their prayers reaching the divine.

"Aap dono apne haath jodkar yeh sankalp lijiye," the priest instructed.

They obediently brought their hands together, eyes closed, as the priest continued, "Is grihasthi ka jeevan sukhmay ho, samriddhi bani rahe, prem aur vishwas sada sthir rahe."

The family watched from behind, Maanyata,Pakhi and Anjali whispering silent prayers for their well-being.

Dev, Ruhaan, and Devika sat cross-legged, occasionally glancing at each other, trying to hold back their usual banter in the seriousness of the moment.

As the Yagya continued, the warmth from the sacred fire and the weight of Avantika's heavily embroidered lehenga made her slightly uncomfortable.

The thick fabric, combined with the morning sun streaming through the temple windows, made her feel unusually warm.

She adjusted her dupatta, trying to drape it over her head properly, but it kept slipping.

Frustrated, she sighed softly, attempting once again to secure it in place when suddenly, a gentle hand reached out.

Her breath hitched.

Avyansh.

Without a word, he took the edge of her veil, carefully adjusting it over her head. His fingers briefly brushed against her forehead as he tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, securing the fabric in place.

His touch was light, careful-as if he had done this before.

Avantika looked up at him, her siren eyes wide with surprise. He didn't say anything, his gaze fixed on the task at hand. But there was something in the way he did it-gentle, protective.

The smallest hint of a small played on his lips as if silently saying, Ab theek hai?

She quickly lowered her eyes, feeling her face heat up, but this time, it wasn't from the fire.

Before she could dwell on it further, the priest's voice pulled them back.

"Ab aap dono milkar iss diye ko jalaye," the Pandit instructed, holding out a silver plate with a single diya on it.

Avyansh and Avantika exchanged a glance before moving forward together. He reached for the matchstick first, lighting the wick as Avantika steadied the plate with her hands.

As the flame flickered to life, casting a warm golden glow, a soft breeze passed through the temple, making the fire dance slightly.

"Yeh jyoti aapke jeevan mein prakash aur shanti laaye," the Pandit blessed, his voice steady and calm.

Avantika, still hyper-aware of Avyansh's presence beside her, exhaled slowly. There was something sacred, something undeniably intimate about this moment-sharing the flame, sharing the light.

As the Yagya progressed, the atmosphere felt lighter, almost serene. The rhythmic swaha with each offering into the fire created a divine harmony, making it seem as though time had slowed down.

When the final offerings were made, the priest sprinkled holy water on them once again.

"Yagya sampann hua. Aap dono abh aashirwad lijiye," he announced, signaling the end of the ritual.

Avyansh and Avantika stood up, touching the priest's feet as he blessed them.

"Yeh bandhan sada sukhmay rahe. Sansaarik sukh aur samriddhi aap dono ke jeevan mein sada bana rahe," he said warmly.

As they turned back towards their family, Avantika felt a sense of warmth settle in her heart-a feeling of belonging, of something sacred that now tied her and Avyansh together in a way deeper than words.

The Pandit turned toward Maanyata, his wise eyes filled with tradition and warmth.

"Ab pratha ke anusar, nai bahu Ishwar tatha apne pati ko bhog chadhane ke liye prasad banayegi," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of generations-old customs.

All eyes turned toward Avantika. She hesitated for a moment, adjusting her dupatta as she slowly stood up.

Avyansh, noticing her slight struggle, immediately extended his hand. She took it without a second thought, gripping his arm gently as he helped her up.

Just beside the temple courtyard, there was a designated cooking area-simple yet rich in tradition. Unlike modern kitchens, this space was built with old village-style utensils.

A chulha (traditional mud stove) sat in the center, its blackened edges speaking of years of sacred cooking.

A large clay pot rested beside it, along with brass and copper utensils arranged neatly on a wooden platform. The earthen gas stove, built with mitti and strengthened with cow dung, had been pre-lit with coal embers still glowing faintly.

A small aangan surrounded the cooking space, where fresh banana leaves were placed for serving.

A hand pump stood at the corner for fetching water, and a few elderly women sat nearby, whispering among themselves, watching the Avantika with curiosity and quiet approval.

"Tumhe koi pareshani toh nahi beta?" Maanyata asked, concern evident in her voice as she watched Avantika adjusting her dupatta again.

"Should we ask them to bring an induction or something?" Pakhi suggested.

Avantika quickly shook her head. "Nahi... hum kar lenge." She reassured them with a small smile.

The priest, who had been observing the exchange, smiled knowingly. He looked at Avyansh before speaking in his deep, authoritative yet kind voice.

"Pati ka dharam hai apni patnimm ki sahayta karna, na sirf sukh mein, parantu kathinaiyon mein bhi. Jab patni apne haathon se Ishwar ke liye prashad tayar kare, toh pati ka kartavya hai ki wo uska saath de. Yehi ek sukhmayi grihasth jeevan ki pehchaan hai-ek doosre ka sahyogi banna."

Avyansh's gaze flickered toward Avantika, who was looking at the priest.

Without a word, he moved closer and sat beside her.

His actions spoke louder than anything else.

The temple courtyard was filled with the soft hum of mantras, the fragrance of incense sticks curling through the air, mixing with the sweet aroma of ghee and cardamom.

The flickering flames of diyas cast a golden glow over the sacred space, creating an ambiance of devotion and serenity.

Avyansh and Avantika sat beside each other on a small wooden platform, their hands moving in sync as they prepared the prasad.

Large brass plates lay in front of them, filled with ingredients-freshly grated coconut, sugar, and wheat flour-all neatly arranged for the preparation.

Avantika carefully mixed the flour and ghee, her bangles clinking softly with each movement. The rich aroma of roasting flour filled the air, bringing a sense of warmth and nostalgia.

Avyansh, observed her closely before reaching out to help.

He took a small portion of the mixture in his hands, pressing it into round shapes. His fingers brushed against hers momentarily, sending a slight shiver up her spine.

The warmth of his touch lingered, but she quickly refocused on her task, not wanting to be distracted.

As the prasad slowly took shape, Avyansh reached for the container of dry fruits, adding crushed almonds and cashews to the mixture.

Avantika, focused on rolling the sweets into perfect rounds, felt the intensity of his gaze on her but didn't look up. Instead, she concentrated on smoothing the edges of each laddu, ensuring they were all the same size.

The temple bells rang in the distance, signaling the next phase of the puja. The sound echoed through the courtyard, a reminder of the sanctity of the moment.

Around them, the elders continued with their prayers, while Pakhi and Anjali helped arrange the offerings. The flickering diyas reflected in Avantika's deep maroon lehenga, making the golden embroidery shimmer.

Her dupatta slipped slightly from her shoulder, but she didn't notice until Avyansh reached out and gently adjusted it, his fingers lingering for just a second before pulling away.

The prasad was almost ready now, neatly arranged on silver plates. The warmth of the festival, the devotion in their hearts, and the unspoken emotions between them made the moment even more significant.

It wasn't just about making prasad; it was about being together, sharing responsibilities, and embracing the traditions that bound them as a family.

After preparing the prasad with careful devotion, Avantika and Avyansh handed it over to the Pandit, who respectfully placed it at the feet of the deity.

The sacred offering, now blessed, carried the essence of their efforts and prayers. The temple bells rang once again, the rhythmic sound echoing through the space, filling the atmosphere with a divine serenity.

As the rituals continued, Avantika carefully picked up a piece of prasad, turning towards Avyansh to place it in his hand.

Her movements were gentle, precise, as if she were performing a sacred duty. But before she could do so, a playful voice interrupted the moment.

"Bhai ko apne haathon se khila dijiye, Bhabhi~," Dev teased, his tone exaggerated, drawing out the last word with a mischievous grin.

His eyes twinkled with amusement, clearly enjoying the situation he had just created.

Avantika stiffened slightly, her fingers hesitating over Avyansh's palm.

The warmth of Dev's teasing gaze and the expectant looks from the others made her suddenly conscious of her every movement.

She had never been one for public displays of affection, and the idea of feeding Avyansh in front of everyone made her heart race.

Before she could decide how to respond, Anjali, who had been observing the scene, gave Dev a sharp glare.

"Nahi... haathon mein hi do Avantika," she said, her voice firm but affectionate. "Yeh toh nalayak hai," she added, shaking her head at Dev's antics.

Dev gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest as if wounded. "Mummy yaar, aapko bas mujhe tokna aata hai," he complained, but his playful pout didn't last long before he chuckled.

Avantika, relieved by Anjali's intervention, quickly placed the prasad into Avyansh's hand. Their fingers brushed briefly, sending a jolt of awareness through her, but she ignored it, focusing instead on the sacred moment.

Avyansh's POV

She was exhausted. After returning from the temple, drenched in sweat from the day's festivities, she hadn't even changed properly before heading out again with Dadi to distribute sweets to the poor.

Now, even after freshening up, she was back at it-getting ready once more.

I sat on the bed, going through some files when I heard her hiss in pain.

Immediately, I put the file aside and walked toward her.

"Kya hogaya?" I asked, my voice calm but firm.

"Nothing," she replied quickly, brushing it off as if it was nothing serious. She reached for her bangles in the drawer, placing them on the table, but something about her movements seemed strained.

I frowned, not convinced. "Bataiye na," I insisted, my gaze instinctively shifting to her back.

That's when I noticed it-angry red rashes covering her skin, spreading from her shoulders down to her back.

"Idhar baithiye, Avantika," I said, my voice leaving no room for argument.

Before she could protest, I gently held her arm and guided her to sit on the bed. Her skin felt warm under my touch, and I could sense her hesitation, but I ignored it.

"Yeh kab hua?" I asked, my fingers grazing lightly over the irritated skin, careful not to cause her more discomfort.

She tensed slightly under my touch but didn't answer. It didn't take me long to figure it out-the heavy embroidery of her outfit, combined with the sweat and movement throughout the day, must have caused the irritation.

Without another word, I walked towards the bedside table, pulling out a soothing aloe vera gel from the drawer. I always kept basic first-aid essentials with me-an old habit from years of living alone and traveling.

I crossed my arms, watching her as she carefully adjusted her saree.

"There's enough time, Avantika. Go and change," I said, my tone firm but calm.

She looked up at me, her hazel eyes narrowing slightly, as if she was already irritated by my words.

"Jab irritation thi toh phir se saree kyun pehni? After changing from that heavy attire, you should've worn something comfortable," I pointed out.

She huffed, her gaze flickering between annoyance and stubbornness.

"Go and change into something comfortable. Then I'll apply the medicine properly," I added, my voice leaving no room for argument.

She sighed, her eyes narrowing further before she scrunched her nose-a habit I had started noticing whenever she was slightly frustrated but unwilling to argue.

I watched as she finally gave in, standing up from the bed. Without a word, she walked towards the wardrobe, pulling out a set of clothes.

Without even looking at me, she grabbed them and disappeared into the washroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

I exhaled, shaking my head slightly.

Stubborn woman.

But still... mine.

She returned wearing a dark blue T-shirt and trousers, her short hair tied up in a small, messy bun. She looked tired, drained even, as if the weight of the day had settled deep within her bones.

I held up the gel in my hand. "Should I call someone to apply it? Ya aap khud laga lengi? Or... I apply it?" I asked, my voice calm, leaving the choice to her.

She didn't say anything-no protest, no agreement. She simply walked to the bed and sat down, her shoulders slumped slightly.

I sighed, stepping closer. "Hum laga dein?" I asked again, lowering my voice so it wouldn't feel like a demand.

No response.

"Aree, boliye na," I tried again, hoping to pull some reaction out of her.

"Bolne ka mann nahi hai," she murmured finally, looking up at me with tired eyes.

I exhaled, nodding in understanding. "Lay down then."

She hesitated for a moment before finally lying down, her movements slow, unsure.

I kneeled beside her and carefully pulled up her T-shirt just enough to expose her back. The sight of her bruised skin made my jaw tighten, but I kept my emotions in check.

My fingers, cool against her warmth, made her body stiffen instantly.

"Relax," I murmured softly, trying to ease the tension in her muscles.

I squeezed a small amount of the gel onto my fingertips and began applying it gently, spreading it evenly across her back. Moving my hands carefully, I worked it in-up and down, slow and steady.

Her breathing was controlled, but I could feel how she was holding herself back, her body still slightly tense beneath my touch.

I ran my fingers along her side where the bruising was lighter, making sure not to press too hard. "Zyada dukh raha hai?" I asked quietly.

She didn't reply, just closed her eyes.

I slowly covered her back again, lowering her T-shirt with the same gentleness I had used while applying the gel.

Her body had relaxed now, her breathing steady and deep.

"Show me your hand," I said softly, not wanting to disturb the calm that had settled in the room.

Without a word, she lifted one hand weakly, her movements sluggish. I took it carefully, squeezing a little gel onto my fingertips before spreading it over the small bruises along her wrist and forearm.

My touch remained light, cautious, as I worked the cooling gel into her skin.

"Dusra haath," I murmured, and she lazily shifted, allowing me to do the same.

She was still lying on her stomach, unmoving, her face turned slightly to the side. Her breathing was soft, rhythmic. Just as I finished, I heard it-a faint, almost delicate sound.

A soft snore.

I paused, glancing at her face. Her lips were slightly parted, her lashes resting gently against her cheeks, her features finally free of the strain she usually carried. She had fallen asleep.

I sighed, shaking my head slightly but not moving away just yet.

I glanced at the clock. 6 PM.

Will wake her up at 7.

Carefully, I adjusted the blanket over her, making sure she was comfortable before sitting down on the couch nearby. Leaning back, I ran a hand through my hair.

____

Author's POV

Devika was sitting on the floor, carefully making a rangoli, her fingers expertly spreading the colors. She was fully focused, adjusting the patterns, when suddenly-

"Kaun baitha hai jhadiyon ke peeche... jiska nicker hai ghootno ke neeche~"

Dev entered the room, singing loudly, his phone in hand, completely lost in his own world.

"Ae Devika, mummy tereko-AAAHH!" He screamed, stopping in his tracks as his eyes landed on the rangoli.

His hand dramatically flew to his chest. "Yeh kya hai?" he asked, his voice filled with horror

Devika rolled her eyes. "Dikhta nahi? Aankhon ke jagah button lagaye ghoom raha hai kya tu? Rangoli hai!" she snapped, clearly annoyed.

Dev stared at it for a second before bursting into laughter, his entire body shaking.

"Yeh-yeh rangoli hai?" he gasped between laughs, his voice turning almost demonic.

Devika frowned. "Kya problem hai isme?"

Dev clutched his stomach, still laughing.

"Agar yeh rangoli hai, toh main Shah Rukh Khan hoon!" he declared dramatically.

"Aise lag raha hai CID ka crime investigation hai-laash chhod ke police sirf marking karke chali gayi!" He wiped his tears, completely losing it.

Just then, Ruhaan entered, holding a box of sweets. "Dev, patakhe laya-?" he stopped mid-sentence, his eyes falling on the rangoli.

His expression twisted in confusion before he barely managed to control his laughter.

"Yeh-yeh tatti kisne ki hai?" Ruhaan said, shaking his head in disbelief.

And just like that, Dev collapsed on the floor, laughing even harder. Devika glared at both of them, holding the bowl of color like she was about to throw it at their faces.

Her hands clenched into fists, her nostrils flaring like an angry bull.

But before she could say anything, Ruhaan smirked and nudged Dev.

"Bhai, sach bata, yeh rangoli hai ya earthquake ka aftereffect?"

That was it.

"MUMMYYYY!!!" Devika shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing through the house like a war cry.

Dev and Ruhaan immediately sobered up, exchanging a look of sheer terror.

"Bhaagiye!" Dev whispered urgently.

Ruhaan agreed nodding his head.

And before Devika could launch the bowl of color at their heads, both of them sprinted away like their lives depended on it.

Meanwhile, Devika stormed off in the opposite direction, her voice ringing through the house as she hunted for backup. "Maa!"

The festival had only just begun, and chaos was already in full swing.

The night was painted with golden hues-the flickering diyas lining the courtyard, the distant fireworks blooming in the sky, and the warm glow of laughter echoing through the house.

The scent of incense still lingered from the Ganesh-Laxmi puja, blending with the crisp evening air.

Among the crowd, conversations flowed effortlessly. Business associates stood together, discussing work, their words a steady hum against the backdrop of festivities. Yet, amidst all this, his mind was elsewhere.

His gaze kept drifting-drawn not to the discussion at hand but to the pockets of joy unfolding around him.

The so-called "big kids" of the house-Dev, Ruhaan, and Devika-were setting off fireworks with reckless excitement, their laughter cutting through the cool night.

Shashwat had joined them, ever eager for mischief, and even Samarth, usually composed, was caught up in the spirit of celebration.

A small shake of his head, a half-suppressed smile. Their antics never ceased to amuse him.

But then, as if pulled by an invisible force, his eyes found her.

She stood near the entrance, illuminated by the golden shimmer of diya lights, the festival's radiance dancing across her features.

Draped in a red ensemble that clung to her effortlessly, the delicate golden embroidery glistened under the warm glow.

The fabric of her dupatta cascaded over her arms as she adjusted it slightly, her fingers grazing the intricate patterns with unconscious grace.

She was talking to someone, a soft smile curving her lips. It was unguarded, natural-something beyond beauty, beyond mere attraction.

His breath hitched.

The twinkle in her eyes, brighter than the fairy lights strung across the courtyard, held him captive.

Loose strands of her dark, wavy hair framed her face, moving gently with the evening breeze. The kohl lining her expressive eyes made them even more hypnotic, pulling him in before he could even think to resist.

And then-she turned.

For a fleeting second, time stilled. The world around him faded-the distant fireworks, the hum of voices, the clinking of glasses. Everything blurred into the background, leaving only her.

She took slow, deliberate steps toward him.

He exhaled, gripping the glass in his hand a little tighter, his heartbeat betraying his usual composure.

No matter how much he tried to focus elsewhere, his attention always found its way back to her.

She said something-but he didn't hear a word.

His gaze was too busy memorizing her-the way her lips moved, the slight tilt of her head, the warmth in her eyes that rivaled the festival lights.

Then-

"Phone aapka!" she suddenly said, raising her voice slightly.

He blinked.

His phone was ringing in his pocket. Clearing his throat, he reached for it, only to hear a chuckle from the group beside him.

"Mr. Raghuvanshi, I think we're disturbing you," one of his business associates teased, smirking knowingly.

Laughter followed.

His jaw tightened, but he schooled his expression into something neutral. "Not at all," he replied smoothly, pocketing his phone without even checking the screen.

When he glanced back at her, she was watching him with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

Her lips parted slightly as if she had something to say, but she didn't.

Instead, she just shook her head lightly, the ghost of a smile still playing on her lips before turning away.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair before finally answering his phone.

Yet, even as he spoke, his focus remained exactly where it had been all along-on her.

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Just Imagine them in this outfit during puja🙌🥺

For Devika~