Malhotra Mansion – Vidaai Night
The stars above blinked solemnly, as if mourning with the Malhotras.
The courtyard, once alive with haldi and music, now stood wrapped in silence, except for quiet sobs and heavy breaths. Yukti stood at the center — glowing in her second bridal lehenga. The rust-orange fabric, embroidered with tales of elephants, palaces, and timeless beauty, fluttered faintly in the breeze. Her chooda clinked, her kalire trembled, her lips wavered.
Lakshmi clutched her daughter tight. “Aaj meri chhoti si duniya kisi aur ki ban gayi…”
Raghav kissed her head gently. “Khush rehna, beta. Aur yaad rakhna, yeh ghar tera tha... aur hamesha rahega.”
Yukti gave a watery smile. But as she turned toward the kalash for her final ritual, the world spun. Her vision blurred. Her chest tightened.
And then — darkness.
“Yukti!” Lakshmi screamed as she collapsed.
But she never hit the ground.
Yuvraj was already there.
Strong arms caught her mid-fall, cradling her bridal frame against his chest. “I’ve got her,” he said, voice calm but firm.
Without a word, he lifted her up in bridal style — her head resting against him, the lehenga trailing behind like the final flame of a diya.
Gasps echoed, but he walked steadily through them. Past the petals. Past the whispers. Straight to the waiting car.
He slid into the back seat, still holding her, and gently settled her beside him. The door shut. The world paused.
Yukti stirred faintly. “Yuvraj…”
He leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “Shhh… rest, Mrs. Rajvansh.”
Her eyes fluttered open slightly — surprised, teary, but glowing. “Did you just…?”
He smiled. “Haan. Tum ab meri ho. Officially. Emotionally. Eternally.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Overdramatic dulha ho tum.”
“And tum ho meri forever drama queen,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss to her forehead.
The car rolled forward. The Malhotra mansion faded into the night. And Yukti, wrapped in warmth, finally closed her eyes — safe in his arms.
Rajvansh Haveli – Grahpravesh*
Midnight.
The Rajvansh Haveli looked like something out of a dream — adorned with flickering diyas, cascading mogra garlands, and a thousand soft lights twinkling like stars fallen to earth. A massive rangoli bloomed at the entrance, echoing the colors of Yukti’s lehenga.
As the car stopped at the grand gate, Yuvraj helped Yukti out — her steps unsure, her heart thundering.
“Ready, Mrs. Rajvansh?” he asked.
She nodded silently, clutching his hand.
Manjri stood with the aarti thali, her smile full of pride and emotion. “Aaj iss ghar mein nayi roshni aa rahi hai,” she whispered.
The aarti began — slow, rhythmic, sacred. The diya flickered in tune with Yukti’s heartbeat.
She tipped the silver kalash gently, rice spilling like a blessing. Then stepped into the alta tray, her crimson footprints trailing behind her like a goddess marking her path.
Yuvraj leaned in, whispering, “Yeh kadam main kabhi dhundhle nahi dunga.”
She glanced sideways. “Philosophy ya flirting?”
“Dono,” he winked.
As they reached the inner courtyard, Yugant appeared, holding a spoonful of dahi-shakkar. “Muh meetha, bhabhi. Welcome to the circus.”
Yukti took the bite, grinning. “Tum log asli comedy ho.”
“Par ab comedy ki queen aap ho,” Yugant bowed.
She finally stepped across the final threshold, toppling the coconut atop a silver pot. Everyone clapped. Manjri’s eyes misted. Lakshmi wiped her tears behind the group quietly, her daughter now part of another world.
As Yukti stepped into the haveli, her eyes widened — the chandeliers, the soft shehnai playing, the floral fragrance in the air. And at her side, Yuvraj — calm, composed, hers.
She exhaled.
This wasn’t just a new house.
It was a new life.
And she wasn’t alone.
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