1) Chachu - Uncle
2) Chachi - Aunt
3) Dadi - Grandmaa
4) Dada - Grandpaa
5) Bhai - Brother
Late Night, Studio
The rain had stopped hours ago, but the air was still thick with damp earth and the faint scent of jasmine from the neighbor's balcony. The rest of the Mital house had gone quiet — Chachu's light off, Dadi asleep with the radio still playing some old Mukesh tune.
Only the small verandah at the back glowed softly — yellow light spilling from a single desk lamp. Dev sat hunched over his laptop, headphones around his neck, testing a layered sample. His mic was plugged in, but something was off in the track. The loop kept falling flat.
Footsteps approached.
Vivaan, in a loose hoodie and pajama bottoms, stood in the doorway.
"You still up?"
Dev looked up, surprised.
"You… know how this works?" he gestured to the digital interface.
Vivaan smiled faintly. "I grew up around live setups. This part?" — he pointed at the waveform — "is where you've clipped the reverb too early."
Dev blinked.
Vivaan leaned over, adjusted a slider, then hit the spacebar.
The playback rolled—and the beat breathed. Open, full, unchoked.
Dev sat back. "What the hell…"
Vivaan grinned. "Sometimes sound needs air. Just like people."
Ten minutes later, Vivaan had pulled up a stool, quietly tuning Dev's neglected acoustic guitar. His fingers moved like second nature — confident but thoughtful, with pauses between each note.
Dev stared. "You play?"
Vivaan shrugged. "Music was… therapy. For things I couldn't say. Places I couldn't stay."
Dev nodded, intrigued but respectful. "Got anything original?"
Vivaan thought for a moment, then strummed a raw, moody progression, humming softly under his breath. No lyrics. Just feeling.
Dev stared at the screen, frozen. "That's it."
Vivaan looked up. "What is?"
"The loop I've been searching for. You just played it."
He immediately hit record. "Go again."
An hour passed. Then two. No words about the world outside. No names. No pasts. Just guitar strings, keyboard pads, field recordings, and the occasional silence between takes.
At one point, Dev paused the track, glancing sideways.
"You're not just some traveler, are you?"
Vivaan hesitated.
Then, almost inaudibly: "What if I'm just someone trying to feel normal again?"
Dev didn't push. He just nodded. "Then let's keep doing this. Music makes normal a little easier."
At 4 AM, a faint light flickered in the hallway as Dadi, unable to sleep, walked past the verandah.
She heard a song — raw, haunting, beautiful.
Two voices — one rough, one fluid. One city, one soul.
She paused at the curtain, listening quietly.
"Who is singing?" she asked softly.
Dev smiled, mid-recording.
"Dadi, meet my new partner."
Vivaan looked up from the mic, smiled shyly.
"Namaste, Dadi."
Dadi squinted at him. "You don't look like a singer. But you sound like one."
Vivaan bowed his head. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a long time."
On the other side Mrs. Upadhyay invited all family relatives, bussines friends and also the specially the Madhvan's for the worship.
The central courtyard transformed into a sacred mandala. A large copper havan kund rested in its heart, surrounded by beds of mango leaves and vibrant red cloth. A white ashtadal (eight-petaled) rangoli was drawn with rice flour. Pandit Vidyadhar Tripathi arrived with his disciples, his voice deep and wise, echoing with years of tradition.
Pandit ji (arranging herbs and utensils): "Yeh havan ghar ke sthirata aur samriddhi ke liye hai. Agni devta sab kuch shuddh karenge." ("This havan is for stability and prosperity. Lord Agni will purify all.")
As family trickled in, Savitri Devi stepped forward. Her presence hushed the courtyard.
Savitri Devi: "Aaj hum sab iss pavitra agni ke saamne ekta, prem aur shanti ke liye prarthana karenge." ("Today, we will all pray before this sacred fire for unity, love, and peace.")
Harshvardhan Upadhyay stood by her side, dignified, silent.
Veer, in ivory kurta-churidar, entered with Rishika, radiant in pastel blue Banarasi. Her eyes sparkled with a rare calm. Behind them came Meenakshi, Aarav, Amaira, and other cousins.
From Jaipur came Tauji's family — Raghav and Isha, Neela Bua, Arman Saram and Anikita Bua, with their children Suhani, Kabir, Rhea and Rudra — reviving laughter and gossip in the haveli's corridors.
A whisper ran through the courtyard as Riyansh Madhvan entered, alone but self-assured. His ivory sherwani mirrored the courtyard's purity.
Veer approached.
Veer: " Riyansh, Savitri Dadi ne khaas kaha tha ke aap havan mein shamil ho." ("Riyansh. Dadi especially requested your presence.")
Riyansh (softly): " Today, nothing else matters. I am here."
From the veranda, Gayatri Devi watched her grandson with quiet approval.
As the Gayatri Mantra echoed, each member stepped forward to offer their aahuti (offerings) into the fire. The flames licked the ghee and herbs with divine hunger.
Pandit ji: " May our actions align with the sacred path."
When Rishika stepped forward, Pandit ji paused.
Pandit ji (smiling): " This young woman carries the resolve of this house's renewal."
Harshvardhan's eyes softened. Not as a patriarch — as a proud father.
Riyansh's turn came. The courtyard quieted.
Pandit ji: "Yeh aahuti satya aur dharma ke liye hai." ("This offering is for truth and righteousness.")
As Riyansh placed the offering, the fire roared. Rishika's gaze briefly met his.
After the final chant, Savitri Devi rose.
Savitri Devi (addressing all): "Today, we vow — no matter what comes, we will not abandon one another."
She turned to Rishika and Veer.
Savitri Devi: ""The future lies in your hands. Think, feel, and choose your path wisely."
As Pandit ji offered sacred vibhuti, Rishika touched Riyansh's hand while applying it.
Rishika (softly): "What burned in the fire, purified something inside us too."
Meenakshi whispered to Harshvardhan.
Meenakshi: "Veer and Rishika are ready... but some bonds are changing color."
Harshvardhan said nothing — his gaze said everything.
Under the bougainvillea-draped veranda, the family shared prasad and laughter. The Jaipur cousins brought life. Amaira caught candid moments for her blog, while kabir teased Aarav about his American accent. Rhea and Suhani danced to soft flute notes in the background.