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The moon hung low and mellow outside Hooda Haveli, casting a silvery glow through the open windows. The hustle of the day had faded, and peace had wrapped around the house like a soft shawl.

Inside, Samaira gently closed the door of the nursery after putting the twins—Rajveer and Aryan—to sleep as suhani sleeping with Anjali today. Their soft snores were now the sweetest music. She smiled to herself as she tiptoed into their bedroom, her silk dupatta slipping slightly off her shoulder as she sighed in relief.

Vikrant was already seated on the bed, sleeves of his kurta rolled up, reading an old file. As Samaira entered, he looked up, his eyes immediately softening.

“So gaye dono?”

(Both of them asleep?)

Samaira gave him a tired smile as she sat beside him, tucking her legs beneath her.

“Haan… Rajveer toh theek se so gaya, lekin Aryan ne toh mujhe thaka diya.”

(Yes… Rajveer slept easily, but Aryan totally wore me out.)

Vikrant chuckled softly, placing the file away. Then, he turned towards her, seriousness lining his voice.

“Raghuvender pasand aaya mujhe.”

(I liked Raghuvender.)

Samaira’s eyes twinkled as she leaned on his shoulder.

“Mujhe bhi… aankhon mein izzat thi, aur Anjali ko jis tarah dekha…”

(Me too… there was respect in his eyes, and the way he looked at Anjali…)

Vikrant wrapped an arm around her and tugged her close.

“Bas yahi dua hai, meri chhoti behen hamesha khush rahe.”

(All I pray is that my little sister always stays happy.)

Samaira shifted, laying her head over his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart.

“Aur meri dua hai ki aap kabhi uske liye galat faisla na le.”

(And I pray that you never take a wrong decision for her.)

He kissed the top of her head, and they fell into a soft silence—comforted in each other's warmth.

---

The date was finalized. Two weeks from now, Anjali Hooda would become Anjali Chaudhary.

Little Suhani stood in front of a full-length mirror, twirling in her yellow lehenga.

“Ma! Main Anjali bua ke jaise dulhan banungi!”

(Mom! I’ll be a bride like Anjali bua!)

Samaira laughed and adjusted the little crown on Suhani’s head.

“Abhi toh dulhan banne ke liye tumhe school jaana padega, meri rajkumari!”

(To become a bride, you first have to go to school, my princess!)

The twins, Rajveer and Aryan, sat in a basket filled with rose petals, throwing them around while giggling uncontrollably.

Vikrant, walking by, raised an eyebrow.

“Yeh shaadi hai ya tod-fod ka mela?”

(Is this a wedding or a demolition fair?)

In evening in the courtyard, Bade Sahab sat on a jute charpai, Suhani in his lap, feeding her grapes while Arjun sat beside him, folding wedding cards.

“Dadu, mujhe bhi shaadi karni hai.”

(Dadu, I want to get married too.)

Bade Sahab laughed heartily.

“Pehle meri rajkumari badi hojaye , fir dekhe agar koi rajkumar tumhare layak h bhi ya nhi."

(Let you grow first my princess, then we will see if there is any prince worthy of you)

Arjun smiled fondly at Suhani, brushing a hand over her soft curls.

In Anjali’s room, Samaira helped her fold her bridal outfits for fitting.

“Tujhe darr toh nahi lag raha?”

(You’re not scared, are you?)

Anjali, looking at her reflection in the mirror, whispered:

“Darr lagta toh bhaiya se kehti.”

(If I was scared, I would’ve told Bhaiya.)

Samaira, watching her from behind, gently touched her shoulder.

“Aur agar kabhi kuch bhi mann se na lage… toh sabse pehle mujhe batana, Anju.”

(And if ever you feel something’s not right… you come to me first, Anju.)

Anjali turned and hugged her bhabhi tightly.

---

After Two Weeks

The courtyard buzzed with activity—servants running with trays, relatives laughing, and shehnai music filling the air like a blessing.

Today was Anjali Hooda’s wedding day.

Little Suhani ran around in her mini lehenga, dragging a small dupatta behind her.

Suhani (excitedly):“Main bhi dulhan hoon! Mujhe bhi mehndi lagani hai!”

(I’m also a bride! I want mehendi too!)

Samaira, applying final touches to her makeup, laughed and caught her daughter mid-run.

Samaira:“Tu toh abhi chhoti dulhan banegi. Chal, phir se baal bana doon, tede ho gaye hain!”

(You’ll be a little bride for now. Come, let me fix your hair, it’s all messy again!)

On the bed, the twins Rajveer and Aryan were busy pulling each other’s turbans off. Vikrant passed by, narrowed his eyes, and sighed.

Vikrant:“Bhaisaab, shaadi ki subah bhi ye dono daku bane hain.”

(Even on the wedding morning, these two are acting like little bandits.)

---

As the house buzzed with wedding energy, Vikrant pulled Samaira into a quiet corner of their bedroom.

Vikrant (gently holding her waist):“Sab tere bharose chal raha hai, Samaira. Agar tu na hoti toh pata nahi main kya karta…”

(Everything is running smoothly because of you, Samaira. If you weren’t here, I don’t know what I’d do…)

Samaira smiled, adjusting his collar.“Bas itna kehna hai toh shaadi ke baad bhi keh sakte the…”

(If you just wanted to flatter me, you could’ve done it after the wedding too…)

He pulled her closer, kissing her forehead.

Vikrant (whispering):“Mujhe tera har din chura lena aata hai, Samaira. Par aaj apni chhoti behen kisi aur ke saath bhej raha hoon… mann bhaari hai.”

(I know how to steal moments with you, Samaira. But today I’m sending off my little sister to someone else… my heart feels heavy.)

Samaira gently placed her head on his chest, her fingers entwined with his.

---

The mandap glowed with marigolds and diya flames. Anjali, dressed in a deep red lehenga, looked every bit the royal bride. Her eyes searched the crowd nervously but met Raghuvender’s across the mandap.

He stood tall in an off-white sherwani and crimson safa, his expression stoic to everyone—but soft when he looked at her.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Raghuvender (in his heart):“Kitni pyaari lagti ho… aur ab tum meri ho jaogi.”

(You look so beautiful… and now you’ll be mine.)

As the rituals began, Vikrant stood by with arms crossed, eyeing every detail, every expression of the groom.

But when he saw how Raghuvender subtly shifted the sacred fire away from Anjali’s dupatta, he exhaled deeply.

Vikrant (to himself):“Theek chuna hai, Anjali ke liye.”

(You’ve chosen well for Anjali.)

Anjali’s mother, Savitri, sat silently wiping her tears. Samaira squeezed her hand gently.

Samaira (softly):

“Rone ka waqt nahi hai, maa ji. Aapki laadli rani banne ja rahi hai.”

(It’s not time to cry, maa. Your darling is going to become a queen today.)

---

As the vidaai began, drums softened into flutes, and silence grew around the crowd. Anjali hugged Savitri tightly, then Bade Sahab, and finally turned to her eldest brother.

She hugged him tightly , tears streaming down her cheeks.

Vikrant lifted her and cupped her face.

Vikrant (fighting tears):

“Mere liye humesha tu meri pehli beti hai Anjali… aur yaad rakhna, agar ek aansu bhi gira, toh Raghuvender se pehle main pahunchoonga.”

(You’re always my first daughter for me Anjali… and remember, if a single tear falls from your eyes, I’ll reach you before even Raghuvender does.)

Raghuvender, standing behind, folded his hands respectfully.

Raghuvender:

“Main waada karta hoon, Vikrant ji… Anjali ki hansi meri zimmedari hai.”

(I promise you, Vikrant ji… Anjali’s smile will be my responsibility.)

As Anjali left in the decorated car, Suhani cried loudest.

Suhani:

“Bua mujhe chhod kar ja rahi hai! Mujhe bhi le chalo!”

(Bua is leaving me behind! Take me too!)

Samaira picked her up, her own eyes teary.

Samaira:

“Teri bua chhod ke jaa rahi hai, par pyaar chhod ke nahi jaa rahi.”

(Your bua is leaving you, but not her love.)

---

As the vidaai vehicle gradually faded into the dust-laced village road, the emotional weight of Anjali’s departure permeated the courtyard. The somber silence was abruptly pierced by the uncontrollable sobs of five-year-old Suhani, who clung desperately to Samaira’s saree pallu, her tiny fists trembling with distress.

Suhani (crying out):

“Bua kyun gayi? Bua mujhe kyun nahi le gayi?”

(Why did bua leave? Why didn’t she take me with her?)

Simultaneously, the twins, Rajveer and Aryan, overwhelmed by the collective emotional upheaval, erupted into inconsolable wailing, their shrill cries echoing through the haveli.

Their discomfort was not only a reaction to the shifting emotional dynamics but also a manifestation of their acute sensitivity to their mother’s distress.

Samaira, visibly shaken, attempted to pacify the children, but the emotional toll of the moment rendered her efforts ineffective.

Her own tears streamed unchecked as she crouched beside the crying children, trying to comfort them despite her unraveling composure.

Samaira (whispering through tears):

“Kaise samjhaun inhe… meri Anjali bhi toh chali gayi.”

(How do I explain to them… even my Anjali has gone.)

Observing her emotional deterioration, Vikrant stepped forward, gently pulling Samaira into his arms. His demeanor, though composed, carried the weight of restrained grief.

Vikrant (in a low, steady voice):

“Samaira, tum aise karogi toh auron ko kon samjhayega. Anjali hamesha humare dil mein rahegi.”

(Samaira, if you will do like this then who will make others understand. Anjali will always live in our hearts.)

Meanwhile, Bade Sahab, maintaining his composure, knelt down to scoop up the distraught twins into his arms, his seasoned presence serving as an anchor amidst the chaos. His reassuring tone, though quiet, was effective in momentarily calming the children.

Bade Sahab:

“Chup ho jao mere sheron, tumhari bua khush hai… aur humein bhi khush rehna hai uske liye.”

(Be quiet, my lions, your bua is happy… and we must stay happy for her too.)

Simultaneously, Arjun, though internally moved, took charge of Suhani, lifting her gently and whispering softly in her ear as he carried her indoors. His ability to divert her attention, narrating one of Anjali’s fairy tales, began to ease her sobs into sniffles.

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