Adil's POV:

The feeling when your impossible dua (prayer) is about to get fulfilled in about 7 hours is just so surreal to experience. Sitting on the armchair, dressed in a mustard-coloured kurta pyjama with a matching waistcoat, I try to take it all in—the dream that lived within me for 5 years, 10 days, and 14 hours.

It feels almost unreal, as if opening my eyes might make everything disappear my marriage with Neha would disappear, meeting Neha again would disappear, getting ready and sitting here for my pre-wedding event, Shukrana would disappear.

It feels almost unreal, as if opening my eyes might make everything disappear—my marriage with Neha, getting ready and sitting here for my pre-wedding event, Shukrana and meeting Neha again.

"Bro, are you ready to get looted?" A nudge brought me back to the present, and when I turned around, I saw Sameer standing next to me, wearing a chic pastel blue kurta-pyjama, grinning mischievously.

"I have heard that Danish Jiju and Arish will join as your brother-in-law, and it seems your sistes-in-law gang is already plotting to rob you to your core," Sameer teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"But don't worry, I'll be on your side. That is... if you do something for me in return."

He leaned in, rubbing his palms together like a villain scheming his next move.

I sighed dramatically. How could I expect this donkey to let me off so easily? This was his golden opportunity.

"Here's the deal," Sameer declared, his grin stretching wider.

Yes, and I am fully aware of what it is.

"I'll help you out, but only if you hand over whatever cash I demand during rukhsati."

Bingo. As expected. The classic wedding heist!

I've always suspected that the person who invented these rituals was secretly running a loot-the-groom business.

First, the sisters-in-law raid his pockets during Shukrana. Then, the brothers demand at Rukhsati, all for driving the newlyweds home. And just when the poor guy thinks he's finally relaxed—boom! His own sisters gang up on him at the doorstep for one last grand fundraiser in the name of welcoming the bride and groom to their own room.

At this rate, I was convinced that by the end of the wedding, the groom wouldn't just be broke—he'd be looking up loan options in the bank.

Rolling my eyes, I turned away, acting like he didn't exist.

This is the best course of action because if I don't, he will definitely plan for a big heist from me.

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Author's POV:

The excitement of Adil's Shukrana/Sanchak ceremony filled the guest house, and everyone gathered in the hall, which was decorated with floor cushions, round pillows, and traditional low sofas. A sofa was set up in front of the groom as a stage, creating a festive atmosphere.

Danish, accompanied by Ali and Ruksana in one car, arrived with the groom's trousseau.

Meanwhile, the energy of the youngsters surged as they emerged from another car, adding to the excitement of the occasion.

At the start of the ceremony, Danish with a sense of solemnity, carefully lifted the holy Quran, its intricate case beautifully adorned, and handed it to Adil.

The moment was profound, a symbol of faith and the beginning of a sacred union.

Next, the groom's trosseau was presented to Adil, marking the ultimate step towards the Nikkah.

As the rituals continued, Ali stood there, his heart heavy with emotion. His normally unwavering eyes betrayed him as they welled up with tears, reminding him that his daughter would be leaving the house in a few hours to begin a new chapter with her husband.

The topic of a daughter's rukhsati is always sensitive for the parents, particularly the father—the deep, unspoken bond that fathers share with their daughters cannot be replaced with anyone.

The thought that from this moment onwards, another man would be the one she relies on rather than him stirs a profound ache deep within his heart. It's a bittersweet realisation that the little girl he once held close is now setting out on her own journey, and that part of their shared life will never be the same again.

Following the completion of the exchange of trosseau, Ali and Ruksana emotionally went to their homes, leaving the youngsters for the next segment of the ceremony.

"Let the fun begin! Come on, girls!" Ayesha called out excitedly, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Neha's cousins and friends stepped forward, giggling as they all took their seats in front of Adil, who was both amused and slightly cautious of his pocket being looted.

The first segment kicked off with the traditional Doodh Pilai ritual—a customary ritual in South Asian weddings where the groom is offered a glass of milk by his new sisters-in-law, but not without a price.

Ayesha and Kubra approached Adil, carrying an elegantly adorned tumbler filled with milk, its rim decorated with delicate rose petals and shimmering golden lace. Their mischievous smiles hinted at the game they were about to play.

"Jiju, have some milk," Ayesha said sweetly, extending the tumbler toward him.

As Adil reached for the glass, Ayesha swiftly pulled it back, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Not so fast, Jiju!" she teased, earning a chorus of laughter from the group.

Kubra, standing beside her, playfully chimed in, "If you want to drink this milk, you'll have to pay up first!"

"Adil does not really like milk; you can take away the glass," Sameer jokingly interrupted, adding to the fun of the negotiation.

"You're not the groom, so be silent!" In a mocking tone, one of Neha's cousins turned to face him and responded.

The crowd burst into laughter, and Sameer, grinning, held up his hands in surrender.

After some playful back-and-forth, a final deal was stuck for 20,000 rupees in exchange for the milk. Adil sighed dramatically but handed over the money, drawing cheers and applause from the girls.

Finally, he took a sip, feeling both relieved and entertained.

Just as Adil thought he was done, Arish placed a hand on his shoulder, his mischievous smile widening.

"Jiju, where do you think you're going? The ceremony isn't over yet," he teased, exchanging knowing glances with the others.

Before Adil could react, Kubra and Aruba stepped forward, carrying a gleaming silver tray decorated with fresh jasmine flowers, henna paste, and tiny decorative beads.

"What's this now?" he asked, eyeing the tray with confusion.

Ayesha beamed excitedly and said, "The Doodh Pilai was just part of your Bangalori Shukrana event. Now, let us introduce you to Hyderbadi Sanchak!"

Adil's eyes widened slightly, but before he could protest, Aruba, the youngest of his sisters-in-law, gently took his left hand and began applying a delicate henna circle in his palm.

Adil sighed in relief, thinking it was simple traditional ritual.

Little did he know, this was only the beginning.

As Aruba finished decorating his palm and fingers, she exchanged a subtle wink with the rest of the girls, and instantly, she tightened her grip around his little finger, making him gasp in surprise.

Laughter erupted as realisation dawned—he had just walked straight into their trap.

In Hyderabadi pre-wedding ritual, Sanchak — a playful custom is played with the groom known as Ungli Pakadne Ki Rasam, a test of wit and patience for the groom.

One of the sisters-in-law applies henna to the groom's hand and then holds onto his little finger, refusing to let go until he offers a generous gift.
The challenge? The groom must either outsmart them or negotiate his way to freedom.

Adil, still unfamiliar with the full extent of the game, hesitated for a moment. Then, as he tried to pull his finger free, he quickly realised that Aruba's grip was stronger than he expected.

The girls erupted into cheers, clapping and laughing at his struggle.

"Come on, Jiju! If you want your hand back, you better offer us something good," Ayesha teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Adil sighed in mock defeat, shaking his head with a smile. He was truly at their mercy now.

"Hey, what is this ritual? We were totally unaware of it!" Sameer barged in again, trying to defend Adil, who sat there looking increasingly trapped.

But nothing could stop the sisters-in-law gang, especially today.

Ayesha turned to him with a playful smirk.

"This is #NammaNizamiWedding Of course, there will be fusion—and this is included," she declared, leaving Sameer momentarily speechless.

Realising there was no winning against them, Sameer dramatically got up, dusted off his kurta, and patted Adil's shoulder with mock sympathy.

"Bro, you are doomed. I'm out of this," he announced, gracefully making his exit and abandoning Adil to the mercy of his mischievous sisters-in-law.

The room filled with another round of laughter, the lively energy of the Sanchak ceremony growing stronger, adding another unforgettable memory to this lively wedding celebration.

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As the ceremony ended, only two and a half hours remained until the wedding. When Ayesha checked the time, a wave of panic surged through her.

How did I lose track of time? She quickly looked around. They were already at the guest house, and some of her team members were about to leave for the venue. Without wasting another second, she called out to them, eager to join and oversee the final arrangements.

"Arish, can you please take all the girls home safely? I'm heading to the venue for a final check," Ayesha said urgently, turning towards him.

Before Arish could respond, Kubra stepped in between them. "Di, don't worry about us. We'll take care of everything," she assured, making Ayesha relax.

"Thanks, Kubra. Can you both make sure everything is packed up properly?" Satisfied that things were under control, she hurried off with her team.

Meanwhile, Kubra and Arish gathered the remaining items, ensuring nothing was left behind. Though others were helping, the responsibility had been given to them, so they took the lead.

"I heard you're a doctor too. What's your specialisation, and where do you work?" Kubra asked curiously as they worked.

"I'm a cardiologist. I recently joined Hope Hospital in Hyderabad," Arish replied.

Kubra's eyes lit up. "Wait, really? I work there too! When did you join?" she asked excitedly.

Arish smiled.

"Oh, then we're colleagues!...."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly throughout the drive home, and by the time they arrived, they had exchanged numbers, marking the beginning of a newfound friendship.

Unbeknownst to them, someone had been silently observing their interaction—from the guest house all the way to Neha's house.

No matter how much she tried to ignore it, an inexplicable unease settled in her heart.

The scene made her uneasy, though she was not sure why.

"Manha, there you are! Go and get ready; it's getting late," Anjum's voice broke through her thoughts. Snapping back to reality, she simply nodded and headed inside to prepare for the wedding.

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The air around the guest house buzzed with energy as everyone rushed to get ready for the wedding.

Excitement filled every corner, from the last-minute outfit adjustments to the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.

Sumaiyya, dressed in a regal ensemble, her deep red intricately embroidered top and perfectly complementing soft golden-beige flared palazzo, the colour scheme subtly matched Raza's sherwani, giving both of them, graceful aura of a young father and mother in law.

Being one of the first to get ready, she settled comfortably in the living room, taking charge of her granddaughter, little Inayah, while Afsha prepared for the wedding.

Thankfully, Inayah remained content, happily engaging with the guests and the lively atmosphere, her bright eyes taking in the festivities without a fuss.

As time passed, the excitement in the air intensified. One by one, the guests gathered in the living room for Adil's turban-tying ceremony—a significant pre-wedding ritual where the groom's elders tie a turban on his head, marking his step towards the Nikah.

"Saniya, go check if Adil is ready," Raza instructed, his voice calm yet filled with anticipation.

"Okay, Chachu, I'll check on him," she responded, adjusting the folds of her lehenga before making her way toward Adil's room.

Meanwhile, Afsha and Danish also emerged.

Danish, in a stylish Indian-style three-piece suit, moved swiftly, gently taking the drowsy Inayah from Sumaiyya and ensuring she rested comfortably in the stroller.

Afsha, adorned in a deep red colour lehenga intricately woven with silver zari work, caught sight of Saniya heading toward Adil's room. With a knowing smile, she joined her, eager to bring her brother out for his final pre-wedding ritual.

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As Saniya knocked on the door of Adil's room, she instinctively adjusted her dupatta, which refused to stay in place. On the other side, Sameer, who had been lounging on the sofa along with Adil in the room, stood up abruptly to open the door.

The moment he did, his breath hitched, seeing Saniya standing in the doorway, dressed in a stunning deep red Anarkali with a lehenga, the intricate gold zari work glistening in the soft light, giving her an aura of regal elegance.

"MashaAllah," Sameer whispered, his voice barely audible yet heavy with admiration.

Hearing his voice, Saniya's gaze lifted and their eyes met—her warm hazel eyes clashing with his stormy grey ones.

For a fleeting moment, the time seemed to pause for both of them. The festive noises from the living room faded, leaving behind an unspoken connection between them, an oasis untouched by the bustling wedding preparations.

"Why are you both standing here?

Everyone's waiting for Adil. Sameer, is he ready?" Afsha, completely unaware of the situation, asked, making both of them snap back to reality

As Sameer regained consciousness, he hurriedly moved aside and dashed out of the room.

Saniya, on the other hand, straightened her posture and followed Afsha inside to see how Adil was doing, putting the encounter back out of her mind.

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How was the chapter guys?

What do you think about the chemistry between Sameer and Saniya?

Before you guys ask, let me tell you—the story of Arish and Manha will also be featured in Flipped Hearts as well, making them the second lead of the book.

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