The Rajvansh mansion was rarely quiet, but tonight, tension crackled in the air like an impending storm. The grandeur of the dining hall, with its ornate chandeliers and regal furnishings, seemed to shrink under the weight of the conversation unfolding.

Vandana Rajvansh sat at the head of the long dining table, her fingers pressing against her temple as she watched her son’s defiant stance.

“I am not going,” Karanveer declared coldly, his chair scraping against the polished floor as he pushed back. His dark eyes, brimming with restrained fury, bore into his father’s.

Yaduveer Rajvansh, ever the composed patriarch, met his son’s gaze without flinching. “Karanveer, it’s your Mamaji’s son’s wedding. You will come with us.” His voice was calm but carried the weight of finality.

Karanveer let out a humorless chuckle, his lips curling into a smirk as he leaned back, arms crossed. “Mamaji? You mean the family that spent years treating us like outsiders? And now, I’m supposed to show up and pretend everything’s fine?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “No, thanks. I have better things to do.”

Vandana exhaled sharply, her patience wearing thin. “Karan, beta, don’t talk like that. They are still family.”

“Family?” Karanveer repeated, raising a brow. “Funny. I don’t remember them treating us like family when it actually mattered.”

“Karanveer,” Yaduveer warned, his tone tightening.

Karanveer met his father’s stare head-on. “And if you expect me to stand there, smiling like an idiot while they act like nothing ever happened, then I’m sorry, Maa. That’s not happening.”

Vandana’s gaze softened, though there was steel beneath her voice. “It’s not just about them. This is about us. About keeping ties intact, they are family.”

“Oh, Family.” Karanveer chuckled darkly.

Yaduveer’s patience was running dangerously thin. “You are going, Karanveer. This is not a request.”

Karanveer’s jaw tightened, his fingers clenching into a fist on the table. “And what if I don’t?”

Before Yaduveer could respond, a new voice chimed in, laced with mischief.

“Bhai, stop being so dramatic,” Diya Rajvansh, his younger sister, drawled lazily, resting her chin on her palm. “Honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? You go, tolerate some fake smiles, eat some overpriced wedding food, and maybe, just maybe, not look like a brooding villain for one evening?”

Karanveer shot her a withering look. “Diya, stay out of this.”

Diya smirked. “Make me.”

Vandana seized the moment, her voice turning softer, but her gaze sharp. “Karanveer, beta. You know how much this means to me.” She sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. “You wouldn’t want to break your mother’s heart, would you?”

Karanveer narrowed his eyes, instantly suspicious. “Maa, emotional blackmail won’t work.”

Vandana pressed on, tilting her head. “You sure about that?”

Diya snickered. “Oh, you’re trapped now.”

Karanveer groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But don’t expect me to play happy family.”

Vandana smiled in victory. “That’s my boy.”

Diya clapped her hands. “Wow. The great Karanveer Rajvansh, defeated by motherly guilt.”

“Shut up, Diya.”

She winked. “Love you too, bhai.”

—-----------

(Vandana Rajvansh, sister of DP and RP, is married to Yaduveer Rajvansh. They have two children, Karanveer Rajvansh and Diya Rajvansh.)

—---------

The Maheshwari mansion was bustling with preparations, the air thick with the scent of fresh marigolds and the hum of wedding festivities. Guests milled about, exchanging pleasantries, while the family gathered in the main hall.

As the Rajvansh family stepped out of their cars, a hushed murmur passed through the assembled guests.

Vandana Rajvansh adjusted the edge of her silk saree, forcing a polite smile as she stepped forward with Yaduveer and Diya. She wasn’t naïve—she knew the weight of old grievances, the invisible barriers that still lingered despite the formal invitations.

Durga Prasad Maheshwari stood at the entrance, his face an unreadable mask. His cold gaze flickered toward Vandana before he gave the slightest of nods—just enough to acknowledge her presence, but devoid of warmth.

Vandana’s smile faltered for the briefest moment, the flicker of sadness in her eyes betraying her composed demeanor. She had expected nothing more, but the ache remained.

Yaduveer, standing beside her, sighed, a quiet sound that only she caught. He knew this would happen. He had warned her. And yet, she had held onto the hope that after all these years, something might change.

“Vandana,” Annapurna Maheshwari greeted, stepping forward with the grace befitting the Maheshwari matriarch. Her tone was polite, but the warmth was measured, like a hostess greeting distant guests rather than family.

Vandana forced a pleasant smile. “Bhabhi.”

“How was the journey?” Annapurna asked, though the question felt like a mere formality.

“It was fine,” Vandana answered politely 

“Where is Karanveer?” Annapurna Maheshwari asked, scanning the crowd.

Vandana’s fingers instinctively curled around her saree’s pallu. “He will be here soon,” she answered, keeping her voice neutral. But inwardly, she was worried. Karanveer had made an excuse and left the moment they landed in Kolkata.

“Hmm,” AP hummed in response, though the slight narrowing of her eyes revealed her doubt. Nevertheless, she gestured for a servant to bring refreshments.

“I’ll just check on something,” AP excused herself, and left

Yaduveer watched her go, then turned to his daughter. “Call him,” he instructed Diya, irritation evident in his tone.

Diya, who had been casually glancing around, pulled out her phone and dialed. She put it on speaker.

The phone rang once. Twice. Then went to voicemail.

She looked up, unimpressed. “What a surprise. No answer.”

“We should’ve known he’d pull something like this,” Vandana admitted, pressing her lips into a thin line.

Yaduveer exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “Yeh ladka kab sudhrega?”

Diya smirked. “Oh, but then life would be so boring.”

The tilak rasam and Ganesh pooja commenced, with the family moving to take their places. 

Karanveer Rajvansh, as always, was exactly where he wanted to be—anywhere but where his family expected him.

—-----------------------------------

The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the narrow lanes near the temple, the scent of incense lingering in the air. Ragini adjusted the edge of her dupatta, smiling as she bid farewell to her friend.

“I should get going, Dadi will scold me if I’m late,” she murmured to herself, glancing at the time on her phone.

Just then, her phone buzzed.

Dadi calling…

She winced before quickly answering. “Haan, Dadi?”

“Where are you, Lado? It’s time for the Ganesh Pooja and oil ceremony! Everyone’s waiting!” Dadi’s sharp voice rang through the speaker.

“I’m on my way, Dadi! Bas—five minutes!” Ragini assured her hurriedly.

“Five minutes matlab,  Don't make me come looking for you!”

“Haan, haan, I’m coming!” she said quickly before Dadi could say more. She disconnected the call and looked around for an auto, but the street was unusually deserted.

Sighing, she opened the Ola app, hoping to book a cab.

"Searching for rides…"

A moment later, a match! But her joy was short-lived when she saw where the driver had parked—across the road.

“Of course,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. The driver had stopped at the worst possible spot, across the bustling street filled with honking bikes, cars, and an unending flow of pedestrians.

Taking a deep breath, she clutched her purse and stepped onto the road, weaving between slow-moving vehicles. She had just reached the middle of the street when—

SCREECH!

A black luxury car came to a sudden halt, missing her by mere inches. The tires screeched, the sound slicing through the air like a knife.

Ragini’s heart jumped into her throat as she stumbled back, eyes wide in shock.

And then—

“Oye!” A deep, irritated voice boomed from inside the car. The driver’s side window rolled down, revealing a man with sharp features, dark eyes that burned with intensity, and a scowl that could rival a thunderstorm.

“You got a death wish or what?” he snapped. “Of all the cars in this city, meri hi gaadi mili thi marne ke liye?”

Ragini, still shaken, blinked at him. Then, realization hit—he was blaming her?

Her shock quickly turned to anger. “Excuse me?! First of all, you were the one driving like a maniac! Aur upar se mujhe daant rahe ho?”

The man let out a sharp breath, exasperation written all over his face. “Oh, toh ab meri galti hai? Tum jaanti bhi ho ki road kaise cross karte hain? This isn’t a temple courtyard, sweetheart. Yeh highway road hai, zinda rehna hai toh dimaag use karo.”

Ragini’s nostrils flared. “Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me! And I know very well how to cross a road! Maybe you should learn how to drive properly!”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Right, because the problem isn’t that you randomly jumped in front of a moving car—it’s me. Amazing logic.”

Ragini huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “Look, Mr. Arrogant, I don’t have time to argue with you. I have to reach home.”

“Great,” he said dryly. “Then get out of my way.”

“Oh, with pleasure!” she shot back, stomping away toward her cab.

He shook his head, muttering, “Unbelievable,” before hitting the accelerator and driving off.

Ragini reached her cab, still fuming.

“Uncivilized, ill-mannered… gundon jaisa attitude!” she grumbled under her breath, pulling the door shut.

As the cab finally drove toward Badi, she took a deep breath, trying to push the encounter out of her mind.

But for some reason, the smug face of that arrogant man lingered in her thoughts far longer than she wanted it to.

—-------------------------

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@Crystal