7
The morning sun rose gently over the resort, casting golden light across the manicured lawns and warm stone pathways.
But even before the sun had fully claimed the sky, the hall at the center of the venue had already been transformed into a radiant burst of color and tradition.
Today was the haldi - and both families had decided it would be done together.
No curtains, no partitions. Just laughter, turmeric, and the beginning of the final rituals leading to the wedding.
The space had been completely redone for the day.
Bright yellow marigold garlands draped from the ceiling like golden rain, crisscrossing above the hall in symmetrical lines.
Yellow and white drapes lined the walls, interwoven with strings of fairy lights that shimmered even in the daylight.
The floor had been laid with crisp white sheets, and around it were arranged low wooden stools and large cushions covered in vibrant block-print fabrics in hues of yellow, orange, and cream.
Copper plates with turmeric paste sat neatly beside bowls of rose petals, mango leaves, and sandalwood.
Brass urulis floated with flower petals, and the fragrance of jasmine mixed with the earthy scent of turmeric.
At the far end of the hall, a stage had been set with traditional wooden swings decorated in flowers, reserved for the bride and groom. Surrounding it, the guests had begun gathering, dressed in shades of sunshine - yellows, mustards, golds - and the air buzzed with anticipation.
Dhruv was already seated off to the side, wearing a simple yet elegant pale yellow kurta with white pyjamas.
His hair was slightly tousled, the sleeves of his kurta folded up lazily to his elbows.
He had arrived early, mostly because his mother had insisted, and now he sat there quietly, watching the flurry of people filling the space.
His cousins surrounded him, some cracking jokes, others taking selfies.
Aarav sat beside him, looking through the photos from the mehendi night, occasionally holding one up and commenting on someone's expression or a badly timed blink.
Dhruv, however, was distracted. His eyes kept drifting toward the entrance.
And then, she walked in.
Vaani entered the hall with a quiet grace that made the entire space seem to pause for a moment.
She wore a soft yellow lehenga - not overly heavy, but adorned with delicate mirror work that caught the light in soft glints.
Her dupatta was draped neatly over one shoulder and pinned at the waist, fluttering slightly as she moved.
Her hair had been left open in waves that framed her face, and fresh mogra flowers had been pinned at the back in a small half-crown.
Her skin glowed, and the rich brown of her mehendi stood out on her hands and feet.
A pair of lightweight silver jhumkas swayed with her every step, and her kohl-lined eyes scanned the room as she walked beside her best friends - Ria, Naina, and Simran - all of whom looked equally festive in matching yellows.
She spotted her parents first and walked toward them to touch their feet, offering a smile before turning slightly to greet the Deshmukhs.
Jaya beamed, walking over to her with a thali in hand. "You look beautiful, beta."
"Thank you, aunty," Vaani said with a soft smile.
Jaya touched her cheek fondly. "For a one more day, you can still call me that."
Everyone around them chuckled, and Vaani joined in quietly before stepping back.
And then, almost instinctively, her eyes found him.
Dhruv had been watching her, but the moment her gaze met his, he quickly looked away - as if caught doing something he shouldn't be. He leaned back slightly, composing himself, but when he looked again, she was already looking elsewhere.
Still, something about that small interaction stirred something in him. She hadn't said a word to him yet today, but her presence changed the air around him. There was something impossibly gentle about the way she moved, greeted people, smiled. She didn't demand attention - she just drew it.
The buzz in the hall only grew louder as the haldi ceremony officially began. The elders started with broad smiles and mischievous eyes, bowls of the fragrant turmeric paste in hand, ready to bless the bride and groom in the most joyful mess tradition could offer.
"Let's start with the parents!" Jaya called out, her voice ringing with excitement.
Vaani was seated on the swing now, her yellow lehenga bunched up delicately as she adjusted her dupatta around her. Dhruv sat on the floor cushion beside her - a little awkward, a little curious - watching the proceedings.
Sunita stepped forward first, holding a brass plate filled with haldi and rose petals. Ramesh stood by her, and Jaya and Mahesh followed with their own bowls.
"Are you ready, beta?" Sunita asked, looking between Dhruv and Vaani.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Dhruv muttered under his breath, earning a stifled laugh from Aarav standing nearby.
Jaya stepped toward Vaani, scooping a bit of haldi onto her fingers and gently applying it to her cheeks, forehead, and then her arms. "May your life be full of love and peace," she said warmly.
"Look at this girl," Mahesh grinned, smearing a playful streak of haldi across Vaani's jaw. "Radiant already and we haven't even begun the wedding!"
Sunita took her turn with Dhruv, patting his cheeks fondly with turmeric and saying, "I never thought I'd be putting haldi on a son-in-law... but I'm glad it's you."
Ramesh, of course, couldn't resist smearing it right across Dhruv's nose, laughing loudly when Dhruv scrunched up his face. "Beta, a little extra for patience - you'll need it with our daughter," he teased.
Everyone laughed. The mood was bright, full of cheer and affection.
Then came the siblings - Vedant and Vihaan on Vaani's side, Aditi, Neil, and Tanay on Dhruv's. They had no plans of being gentle.
"Time for the real fun," Aditi declared, grabbing a huge scoop of haldi and plopping it right onto Dhruv's shoulder. "For every prank you pulled on me growing up!"
"Really?" Dhruv huffed, mock-glaring.
Neil and Tanay joined, drawing random patterns on his arms, as if he were a canvas.
Vedant and Vihaan, meanwhile, didn't hold back either.
"Tai, forgive us in advance," Vihaan smirked, applying a long streak across her forearm.
"Vedant," Vaani groaned as her younger brother smeared haldi onto her hairline, "you better hope your wedding comes soon."
"Bring it on," he laughed, "but right now it's your turn."
Then came the friends.
Ria, Naina, Simran, Aarav, and a few of Dhruv's college friends and cousins stepped forward with even more haldi, and even more mischief.
"Group attack!" Ria shouted.
Before Vaani could process, she had three hands dabbing haldi on her feet, arms, and even sneaking some onto her neck.
"Guys!" she giggled, unable to wriggle away from the assault.
Aarav had his sights on Dhruv. "This is for never letting me copy your homework in college," he said, before slathering haldi generously across Dhruv's arm.
Dhruv didn't even flinch. "I'll remember this at your haldi."
The air filled with laughter, camera flashes, and music. Someone started tossing marigold petals, and they floated gently through the air like golden confetti.
Then suddenly someone called out, "Now make the bride and groom put it on each other!"
"YES!" Ria and Aditi chimed in together.
"No backing out," Tanay added with a wicked grin.
Vaani's eyes widened slightly. She looked at Dhruv, unsure. Would he be okay with this?
But before she could speak, Dhruv surprised her.
He looked over, calm and collected, then leaned forward toward the bowl nearest him. With a touch of care, he scooped a small amount of haldi onto his fingertips and slowly reached out.
Vaani's breath caught.
There was no teasing in his gesture, no awkwardness. It was gentle - almost reverent.
His fingers lightly brushed her cheekbone as he applied the haldi, and she felt the warmth of it not just on her skin, but somewhere deeper.
He held her gaze for a moment - steady, unreadable - then offered the barest hint of a smile.
Her heart beat a little faster.
"Can I...?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above the hum of chatter around them.
He nodded once.
She reached for the haldi - not as confidently, but with a steady hand - and lifted her fingers toward him. Her hand hovered near his face for a moment before she delicately dabbed the haldi on his cheek, then the other.
As her fingertips touched his skin, she felt something shift. He didn't flinch or move away. He let her.
It was simple. Quiet. But it felt like the first brick laid in the foundation of something new - a closeness they hadn't acknowledged before, but now couldn't ignore.
The crowd whooped and cheered.
"Aye haye!" Ria sang, "Kya nazare milaye!"
"Bas ab sangeet mein full Bollywood mode!" Aarav added.
Dhruv rolled his eyes at the noise, wiping the corner of his eye with his sleeve, but didn't say anything. Vaani smiled faintly, her cheeks glowing - and not just from the turmeric.
As the crowd returned to playful chaos, tossing more petals and pulling people to the dance floor, Vaani glanced once more at him.
He wasn't looking at her. He was talking to Aarav again.
But that one moment - of haldi, of silence, of him reaching for her first - it stayed with her.
The haldi ceremony was now in full swing. The music had softened into a soothing instrumental as more of their extended family began to gather around the bride and groom with bowls of turmeric paste, eager to bless them in their own ways.
Elderly aunties took turns dabbing haldi on Vaani's arms and cheeks, whispering blessings and telling her she looked like a golden doll.
Her uncles cracked light jokes about marriage and responsibilities while applying it to Dhruv's palms with good-natured teasing. Everyone was glowing - quite literally.
Every few minutes, new relatives stepped forward - cousins from both sides who'd just flown in, friends of uncles and aunties, and even neighbors who'd known them since they were children. The energy in the room was bright and warm like the marigold petals scattered everywhere.
In the midst of it all, Dhruv glanced over at Vaani.
She was smiling politely, nodding as relatives spoke to her, letting them smear turmeric onto her skin with tired grace. But what caught his attention wasn't her expression - it was the state of her.
Her once-perfect hair, neatly styled into soft waves earlier that morning, was now frizzing from the humid air and sticking unevenly where haldi had gotten into the strands.
Her cheeks were practically glowing - not with bridal blush, but with an overgenerous smear of turmeric from three different relatives.
One streak near her jaw had started drying oddly, cracking just slightly.
She looked... over-haldi'd.
She must've noticed his gaze because she turned to him slightly, still smiling, and whispered, "Too much?"
He nodded, giving her a small smirk. "You should clean your face. It's too much now."
"I can't get up in between," she replied quietly, her hands still resting in her lap. "They'll say I'm being fussy."
Dhruv exhaled through his nose in agreement. The photographers were still clicking pictures, capturing every little laugh, every dab of turmeric. But Vaani looked almost uncomfortable now, and he could tell.
"Hmm," he said, looking around, and then reached for a tissue packet kept on the nearby table.
"Look here," he said gently, turning slightly toward her.
She blinked. "What are you-"
But before she could finish, he was already lifting the tissue to her cheek with careful fingers.
His touch was light, cautious - like he didn't want to offend her, or smear too much.
With short, gentle swipes, he wiped away the thick clumps of haldi from her jawline and side of her cheek, making sure just a soft yellow hue remained.
"There," he said quietly, tossing the used tissue onto the nearby tray. "Now you'll look less like a turmeric statue in the photos."
Vaani chuckled under her breath, her eyes following his movement.
Without thinking twice, Dhruv took another tissue and wiped a similar smear from his own nose and chin, fixing the awkward blotch his cousin had left earlier.
She watched him. There was no show in what he was doing, no performance - just quiet, instinctive care.
"Thank you," she murmured.
He looked at her and nodded once. "Didn't want you to look like a curry ad in the family album."
That made her chuckle, the sound quiet and real.
For a second, they just looked at each other. Nothing was said. But the noise of the haldi faded around them - or maybe it just quieted in their little pocket of space.
There was something unspoken in his gesture - not romantic, not exaggerated, but attentive. Human. Gentle. The kind of attention that couldn't be forced.
Then someone called out, "Oye dulha-dulhan, look this way!"
They turned just in time for a camera to flash. Vaani instinctively straightened, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. Dhruv angled himself slightly, resting his arms on his knees.
The moment passed, like most moments do. But it lingered in her mind even after.
He hadn't needed to help. No one asked him to. But he did it anyway - as if it came naturally.
And maybe that, more than anything else, was beginning to say something.
~·~
The evening descended with a subtle golden hue, casting a warm glow over the resort as the staff lit up fairy lights one by one, transforming the place into something out of a dream. The sangeet celebration was set to begin, and the venue looked like a page torn from a grand wedding magazine.
The main lawn of the resort had been converted into an open-air celebration space, with large white tents lined with marigold garlands and strings of jasmine.
Warm-toned fairy lights crisscrossed above, draped elegantly like a glowing canopy.
Each tented corner was furnished with cushioned diwans, low wooden tables decorated with brass diyas, and bowls of floating flowers.
Yellow and gold were the central colors, offset with splashes of deep magenta and royal blue in the form of table runners, cushions, and stage curtains.
The centerpiece was the stage - set up at the far end of the lawn under a beautiful floral arch, with LED lights giving it a subtle twinkle.
Behind the arch, the words "Vaani & Dhruv" were written in a soft golden cursive, suspended mid-air, glowing faintly with backlight.
The stage itself had a rich red carpet, with two intricately carved chairs placed in the middle for the bride and groom to sit during performances and ceremonies.
Around it, soft petals had been scattered, forming a fragrant border.
To the right of the stage, a massive screen was set up to project photos and videos, and to the left, a mini DJ console had been tucked discreetly under a fabric canopy, ready for the after-party.
A bar setup stood at the far corner, elegantly dressed in white and gold, with servers already busy shaking mocktails and juices.
The entire family - both Joshis and Deshmukhs - were outside, buzzing with excitement and busyness.
Guests had started to arrive, most of them in beautiful traditional outfits - women in sequinned lehengas and chiffon sarees, men in smart kurtas and jackets.
The air smelled of rosewater, incense, and fresh marigolds, undercut with the sharp tang of citrus mocktails.
Vedant and Vihaan were running around in matching embroidered Nehru jackets over their kurtas, handling last-minute things - directing guests to their seats, checking the welcome drink counters, and getting instructions from the event coordinator who was frantically on the phone.
"Tie your shoelace!" Vaani's mom, Sunita, called out to Vihaan as he sprinted past.
"Later, Aai! I need to get the USB for the DJ!" he shouted, already gone.
Mahesh Deshmukh, ever the social host, was greeting a group of guests from Pune with a booming laugh, while Jaya was checking with the caterers about the starters being served promptly.
In one corner, Ramesh Joshi was guiding a slightly confused elderly uncle to his assigned seat, patting his shoulder warmly.
All around, there was movement - people hugging, servers gliding past with trays of food, kids running in between, aunties laughing loudly, phones flashing for selfies.
The sound of dhol beats slowly began to grow louder in the background, a signal that things were truly about to begin.
Ria, Simran, and Naina were outside too, dressed to perfection and already helping the event manager set up the playlist for the performances.
"Vedant!" Simran called, "Did you check if the backdrop for the performance section is okay? It was falling earlier!"
"I fixed it!" Vedant replied, out of breath but smiling. "It's taped now, it won't fall."
Back near the entrance, Dhruv's cousins Tanay and Aditi were standing with Aarav, making sure the relatives from Dubai were greeted and directed toward their seats with care.
"Where's Dhruv?" Aarav asked, checking his phone.
"Still in the room, getting ready. You know him - he'll come out at the last possible minute," Aditi smirked, adjusting her bangles.
Everything buzzed with the kind of excitement that only a big fat Indian wedding can bring - music in the background, voices rising in cheerful chaos, photographers scuttling for candid moments, and that subtle tension of everything needing to go just right.
In the middle of it all, the stage waited - a centerpiece of the evening, empty for now, but soon to be filled with dancing, music, and laughter.
The night had just begun.
The music had just begun to swell to a slower beat when the quiet hum of conversation shifted. Heads turned, eyes followed, and a slight hush of curiosity and admiration passed through the guests as Dhruv stepped into the sangeet venue.
Dressed in an elegant bottle-green silk kurta with golden embroidery along the collar and cuffs, paired with a cream churidar and tan mojris, he looked perfectly in place among the grandeur of the evening.
His hair was slicked back neatly, and the watch on his wrist glinted under the fairy lights.
There was something calm and grounded about his walk - composed, polite, but unmistakably confident.
He moved with ease through the gathering, nodding and smiling when someone greeted him. His cousins waved at him from the left side of the tent, but he made his way straight to the stage where a plush maroon sofa had been placed for him and Vaani for the performances to come.
Just as he sat, adjusting the ends of his kurta slightly, Vedant appeared by the steps of the stage. He was dressed in a royal blue sherwani with gold buttons and looked sharp for his age - but his shoulders were a little stiff, his face slightly awkward as he approached Dhruv.
"Jijaji..." he started, his voice polite and reserved. "Vo... you have to sit there. Dada is moving this sofa to the side - it'll be empty here for dancing."
Dhruv looked at him, then at the space Vedant pointed toward, and nodded. "Okay," he said simply, standing slightly to adjust.
But before Vedant could turn and leave, Dhruv called, "Vedant."
Vedant paused and looked back. "Yes, jijaji?"
Dhruv gave a soft, amused smile. He'd noticed it before too - the way Vedant never said too much around him. There was a little respect, sure, but also the slight hesitation of a younger boy unsure of how to talk to this man who would soon be his brother-in-law. Dhruv figured he'd try to fix that.
"Sit down for a second," Dhruv said, patting the space beside him on the sofa. "Let's take a photo before you go. You're looking really good."
Vedant blinked, caught a little off guard. "Oh... okay," he said, quickly coming to sit down beside him, posture a bit straighter than usual.
Dhruv turned to him and gestured. "Give me your phone."
Vedant fished it from his pocket and handed it over. Dhruv opened the camera, adjusted the angle, and clicked a couple of photos, glancing at the screen to check.
Then Vedant asked, "Can I call dada too?"
Dhruv chuckled, handing back the phone. "We'll call him," he said. "But first, this one's just us."
Vedant gave a small laugh and nodded, his nervousness beginning to ease. Just then, Dhruv raised his voice slightly and called, "Vihaan!"
From the other end of the hall, Vihaan turned from where he was talking to a guest and looked over.
"Yea, jiju?" he called back, walking over with a bounce in his step. He was in a dark maroon kurta with a Nehru jacket, looking sharp and slightly smug with the kind of ease only younger siblings carried.
"Come, we're taking a photo," Dhruv said.
Vihaan grinned. "Nice! Move over, Vedant," he said, hopping up the stage and plopping beside Dhruv.
The three of them sat side by side, Dhruv in the middle, both boys flanking him. Dhruv raised his phone again.
"Okay, smile," he said.
They did - and the camera clicked. Then one more. Then one funny face, because Vihaan insisted, and Vedant laughed, his posture finally dropping into comfort.
"Send me this," Vihaan said quickly. "This is going on my story."
"Same," Vedant echoed.
Dhruv handed the phone back. "Done."
Before the boys could run off again, one of the resort staff came over, politely letting them know Ramesh Joshi was looking to shift the sofa to the side area now. Dhruv stood immediately.
"Let's help," he said, already moving toward the heavy sofa with ease.
Vedant jumped down to help as well, and Vihaan came to the other side.
With the three of them, the task was done quickly, the sofa moved neatly to the edge of the performance area, leaving the stage clear. The resort staff quickly adjusted the floral rug in the center, ensuring it looked camera-ready.
As the lights dimmed and the background music changed to the opening beats of the first performance, the trio stepped off the stage. Vedant looked at Dhruv once more, and this time there wasn't hesitation in his smile - just a natural, easy familiarity beginning to take root.
And as Dhruv adjusted his sleeves and moved to sit near his cousins, he glanced at the photo that had just landed in his WhatsApp from Vedant - captioned with a simple: "Tai's boys ??"
He smiled, quietly.
The energy in the hall shifted again as soon as the music changed to a softer, melodic instrumental. Heads began to turn, murmurs passed through the guests, and then - she entered.
Vaani stepped into the decorated sangeet hall like a frame straight out of a dream.
Dressed in a stunning ivory-white lehenga with intricate mirror and thread embroidery glinting gently under the fairy lights, she looked effortlessly graceful.
The blouse was elegant, sleeveless with a high neck and subtle beadwork, paired with a flowing lehenga skirt that swirled slightly as she walked.
Her dupatta - sheer and scattered with pearls - rested delicately on one shoulder and over her arms.
But it was her hair that caught Dhruv's attention almost instantly.
It was left open in soft waves, tumbling down her back with tiny white baby's breath flowers tucked near her ear.
The simplicity of it - no heavy ornaments, no loud accessories - somehow made her presence louder than anything else in the room.
She looked poised, grounded, and quietly radiant.
She greeted a few relatives with folded hands, smiled at the elders, and exchanged a tight, laughing hug with Ria as she made her way toward the front. Her eyes scanned the seating area until they landed on him - Dhruv, already seated near the stage.
Their eyes met for a second before she looked away, cheeks tinged with a soft pink.
She stepped closer and quietly sat beside him on the long white cushioned bench, giving him a polite smile as she adjusted her dupatta.
He nodded, acknowledging her presence with a slight curve of his lips but didn't say anything.
Just then, the lights dimmed further and the anchor - a cheerful family friend - stepped onstage, mic in hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Sangeet Night of Vaani and Dhruv!" the voice rang out, met with whistles, claps, and cheers.
The evening had begun.
The first few performances were sweet and full of enthusiasm - her cousins from Pune performed a playful dance to 'Gallan Goodiyan', laughing through a few missteps and blowing kisses to Vaani as she clapped and cheered. Dhruv chuckled beside her, watching the energy unfold with interest.
Then came his side - his cousin sisters dancing to 'Navrai Majhi' in honor of Jaya, who watched teary-eyed from the front row. Dhruv leaned forward a bit, clearly enjoying it. Vaani watched him with a small smile - this man was not expressive, but in his silences, there was attention.
Next came her friends - Ria, Simran, and Naina - with a high-energy mashup of Bollywood wedding hits.
They'd included 'Desi Girl', and when it came on, they all pointed to Vaani from the stage.
She buried her face in her hands for a moment, laughing, and Dhruv let out a chuckle too, shaking his head.
"They're relentless," he muttered, and she glanced at him with amusement.
"You have no idea," she said back softly.
As applause echoed, the anchor returned. "Now for a surprise... a very special one from the youngest and most energetic duo in the family..."
Vaani blinked as the lights changed and music started - and there, stepping onto the stage, were Vedant and Vihaan.
Her hand immediately went to her mouth in surprise.
Dressed in coordinated kurtas, the two brothers danced with full energy and visible excitement. They'd mixed comedy, moves, and even mimicked one of her old dance steps from childhood that only close family knew.
The moment was unexpected. As she watched them - her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, hands folded in her lap - something shifted inside her.
These two had grown up so fast, and yet, they were still the same little boys who had followed her everywhere, who waited for her to come home from college, who pulled pranks on her and hugged her tight after fights.
She sniffed slightly, and Dhruv, who had been watching the dance too, turned just enough to notice. She wasn't sobbing - it was subtle. A quiet emotion softening her features, her eyes glassy, a small smile held back by a lump in her throat.
He didn't say anything. But something about seeing her like that - so moved, so connected to her brothers - gave him a glimpse of her he hadn't yet known. He realized, in that moment, just how close-knit she was to her family. This bond wasn't surface level - it was deep, unwavering, honest.
He looked from her to the boys, who were ending their dance by making a heart toward her and then dramatically bowing. The guests clapped, laughed, and cheered.
Vaani wiped the corner of her eye and stood to give her brothers a proud clap. Vedant looked toward her, beaming, while Vihaan gave a playful salute. Dhruv smiled quietly beside her, seeing the joy dance across her face.
"Unexpected performance?" he asked gently, tilting his head toward the stage.
She looked at him, recovering. "Completely," she whispered, then added, "But I should've known. They never sit still."
He chuckled. "It was really good."
She smiled. "They're my whole heart."
And Dhruv, hearing that, simply nodded. Something settled inside him too - a quiet appreciation of who she was, piece by piece, coming into view.
The energy in the hall was electric now - the music had turned upbeat again, and laughter echoed off the lights and fairy curtains draped across the ceiling. Everyone was still buzzing from the previous performances when suddenly someone from the crowd shouted, "Now the bride and groom!"
Another voice joined in, then another, and soon the entire gathering was chanting, "Dance! Dance! Dance!"
Vaani blinked, startled, her head turning toward the voices, her cheeks flushing.
She hadn't prepared anything - no choreography, no practice, nothing.
She looked around for an escape, hoping maybe someone else would jump in to divert attention, but instead, Dhruv, sitting right next to her, stood up.
She looked at him in surprise as he offered her a hand.
"Come," he said simply.
She hesitated, a crease forming between her brows. "I didn't practice anything," she whispered, worried.
"I know," he said again, calm, reassuring. "Come."
There was something so quietly confident in the way he said it, as if there was no way this could go wrong. Still unsure, she placed her hand in his, letting him gently tug her up as whistles and hoots filled the air.
He guided her to the open dance floor as the DJ grinned and shifted the song. The moment their feet touched the center, the lights softened around them - and the crowd instinctively took a step back, forming a wide circle, giving them space.
The song that started playing was a gentle, melodic track - not too fast, not too slow, something just in between that gave room for movement, but didn't need practiced steps.
Dhruv turned to her, his expression unhurried.
"Just follow my lead," he said softly.
She nodded once, still slightly nervous, and then his hand moved to her waist, the other gently holding her right hand. They began.
One step. Two. A slow spin.
It felt oddly effortless. He moved with a subtle rhythm, nothing showy or complicated - just graceful, well-timed steps, and he made sure to move in ways that allowed her to follow without needing to think too much.
She found herself keeping up, her body responding almost instinctively, matching his rhythm, mirroring his turns.
The music floated around them. A part of her wondered how they looked to everyone else, but most of her was just trying to figure out why her feet weren't tripping over themselves.
And before she could catch herself, she was smiling.
Not from relief. From joy.
Every turn he gave her, every small dip, every spin - it wasn't rehearsed, but it didn't matter.
It worked. Their bodies moved in sync, like it had always been meant to be like this.
She let go, slowly, just enjoying the moment.
Her dupatta swirled slightly with each spin, her bangles clinked in rhythm, and every time she looked up at him - which wasn't often, just quick glances - she found him already looking at her.
As the song neared its end, he gently twirled her one last time, letting her spin out before pulling her back in with a soft flourish. The music faded on cue, and the hall erupted in applause.
Cheers. Claps. Whistles.
They were met with so much noise and love that Vaani blinked in slight disbelief. Her cheeks were warm, her pulse still catching up.
She turned to him slightly and asked under her breath, "How...?"
He glanced at her, brushing some hair off his forehead, slightly amused.
"Business parties," he said, his voice low, "You have to dance a lot. So I've learned the basics."
Vaani nodded - soft and surprised. "I see."
They walked off the floor together, still holding hands for a moment longer before he let go gently as they reached the edge. Her friends rushed up to her, showering her with teasing, praise, and "we told you he had moves!"
From across the hall, Jaya turned to Mahesh and whispered with a proud smile, "Look at them. Like they've been dancing together forever."
And Dhruv, from where he stood, looked back at Vaani once - the image of her twirling with stars in her hair and surprise in her smile still lingering in his mind.
No, it hadn't been planned.
But somehow, it had felt just right.
~·~
It was nearly midnight when Dhruv finally got back to his room.
The sangeet had ended hours ago, but the high-energy buzz of the night still lingered in the air.
His jacket was slung over a chair, his kurta sleeves rolled up, and he had finally taken off those uncomfortable formal shoes.
The air conditioning hummed low in the background as he sat back on the bed, resting his head against the headboard, phone in hand.
The room was dimly lit - just one bedside lamp on. His cousins had gone off to continue late-night games in the rec lounge, but Dhruv had slipped away early, claiming exhaustion. The truth was, he wanted a moment alone. Just a moment to take it all in.
He opened Instagram and instinctively tapped through the first few stories.
The first one was Vedant's. A mirror selfie, a little grainy, clearly taken on the go. Vedant and Vihaan were standing beside him - Dhruv in the middle. All three dressed for the sangeet. Vedant had added a caption in white font with a sunglasses emoji at the end:
Dhruv paused.
Tai's boys.
He read it again, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
The words shouldn't have meant much - just a playful caption - but somehow, they landed with an odd kind of warmth.
Not quite strange. Not quite familiar. He had never really been someone's anything before - at least not like that.
But now... her brothers had looped him into that circle, even unintentionally.
One of her boys.
He chuckled under his breath and liked the story.
He tapped ahead.
Ria's story was next. It was a series of quick clips and selfies - her, Simran, and Naina taking turns with the camera, all of them in their sangeet outfits, their laughter echoing through the audio in the clips.
Then came a photo: the four of them - Vaani in the middle - standing against the lit backdrop near the main lawn.
Vaani stood out. Not just because she was the bride, but something about her expression, her poise, the soft way she smiled into the camera without trying too hard. There was a calm to her in the midst of all the joy around.
He liked that story too.
He tapped ahead again.
Simran's story loaded next.
And that's when he paused again.
It was a picture - of him and Vaani, mid-dance.
Her hand resting lightly on his chest, his hand just behind her back.
It wasn't a full pose. More like a candid caught at the right time - in the middle of a step, just as they were moving.
Her eyes weren't even on the camera. They were on him.
And he wasn't smiling big - just a slight expression, caught somewhere between focus and a quiet moment of being.
And it looked... like something.
He stared at it for longer than he thought he would. The caption on top was simple:
The reality of it hit him a little harder than he expected.
Tomorrow.
In less than twenty-four hours, he'd be married. A married man. Legally, emotionally, officially - everything would shift.
He leaned back a little more, letting the phone drop to his chest as his eyes moved to the ceiling.
So far, everything had moved in a blur. The planning, the back-and-forth, the rituals, the logistics - everything had kept him so distracted.
Even Vaani - for all her calmness and warmth - was still someone he was just beginning to know.
Their conversations had been limited, moments stolen between chaos. Glimpses of each other in passing.
But tomorrow... they'd be husband and wife.
He picked up the phone again and tapped back on the picture of their dance. Zoomed in a little. It was strange how natural they looked - even though everything between them was so new. No one could've guessed.
He exhaled softly and locked the screen.
Across the room, his wedding outfit hung neatly on the wardrobe door.
Cream and gold sherwani, with a deep red stole.
It looked regal, almost too formal - like it belonged to someone else.
Someone who wasn't still scrolling Instagram alone at night, trying to wrap his head around what tomorrow would be.
He looked at it again, at the slight shimmer of the embroidery in the dim light, and tried to picture her walking in, dressed as a bride.
He didn't know what she'd be wearing. But he knew - somehow - she'd look like she always did. Understated. Elegant. Quietly radiant.
He found himself smiling again - a bit dazed, a bit in disbelief.
This time tomorrow, he'd be married.
And not just married.
Married to her.
??