The sun finally set completely behind the towering walls of the Kakatiya set. The logistics team switched on the ambient lighting. Hundreds of hidden yellow lights illuminated the stone pillars, casting long, dramatic shadows across the central courtyard.
By 7:30 PM, the guests began to transition from the standing areas to the main seating arrangement.
The seating was organized in a wide semi-circle around the large wooden stage. The front row consisted entirely of deep, comfortable velvet sofas reserved for the immediate families and the senior VIPs.
Siddanth's parents, Vikram and Sesikala, sat on the left side. Krithika's parents, Subba Rao and Suma, sat beside them.
Behind the families, the cricketing legends and the Tollywood stars took their seats. Sachin Tendulkar sat next to S.S. Rajamouli. They were deeply engaged in a quiet conversation. Virender Sehwag sat beside them, looking closely at the catering menu placed on the small side tables.
However, not everyone had taken their seats.
Near the heavy wooden bar situated under the secondary Banyan tree, a large group of current cricketers and actors were still standing. Virat Kohli, Rohit Sharma, Shikhar Dhawan, Prabhas, Rana, and Sameer were holding fresh glasses of ice and amber liquid.
"The Sangeet is starting," Sameer announced, looking at his watch. "We should sit down."
"Let the families settle first," Virat said, taking a sip from his glass. "Sid and Krithika haven't even walked in yet."
"I still cannot believe he hid this for five years," Prabhas said, leaning against the wooden counter. "Five years. In this country. With the media tracking his every move."
"He treats his personal life like a military operation, anna," Sameer explained, finishing his drink and placing the glass on the counter. "Half the time, even we didn't know where he was going."
"Well, the operation is over," Rohit noted. "He has to face the music now."
A sudden shift in the ambient music interrupted them. The soft, classical instrumental track playing through the courtyard speakers faded out. The main DJ, standing behind his console on the wooden stage, triggered a heavy, rhythmic bass beat.
The low frequency vibrated through the floorboards.
"They are coming," Feroz said.
The group at the bar put their glasses down and walked quickly toward the seating area, taking their places in the second and third rows.
The heavy teakwood doors at the far end of the courtyard swung open.
Siddanth and Krithika walked out.
Siddanth wore his dark blue silk kurta. Krithika wore her deep green lehenga, the gold thread catching the ambient lights. Siddanth held Krithika's right hand in his left. They walked slowly down the central aisle, navigating the stone pathway that led through the center of the seated guests.
The entire courtyard erupted into applause.
Virender Sehwag stood up and clapped loudly. Sachin Tendulkar smiled and clapped. Prabhas and Rana whistled from the back row. The Indian Test squad started banging their hands against the wooden armrests of their chairs.
Siddanth did not look around much. He kept his eyes focused forward. Krithika looked down slightly, smiling, clearly overwhelmed by the star power sitting in the rows around her.
They reached the front row.
Siddanth let go of her hand. Krithika walked forward and took her seat on the center sofa, sitting directly between her mother, Suma, and Siddanth's mother, Sesikala.
Siddanth did not sit down.
Instead, he turned to his left and walked up the short wooden stairs leading onto the main stage.
He walked to the center of the stage. The DJ, a young man wearing headphones around his neck, quickly grabbed a wireless microphone, turned it on, and handed it to Siddanth.
Siddanth took the microphone. He stood there for a few seconds. He looked out at the crowd. He looked at the Tollywood stars. He looked at the World Cup-winning cricket team. He looked at his parents. Finally, he looked directly at Krithika.
The crowd slowly quieted down. The music faded to absolute silence.
Siddanth tapped the top of the microphone twice. *Thump. Thump.*
"Good evening," Siddanth said. His deep voice echoed perfectly off the Kakatiya walls.
"Good evening, Devil!" Dhawan shouted from the third row.
Siddanth smiled slightly. "Thank you all for coming. I know traveling during the middle of a Test series and movie shoots is difficult. But looking at this crowd, seeing everyone sitting together... it means a lot to my family."
He paused, shifting his weight. He held the microphone comfortably in his right hand.
"Over the past week," Siddanth continued, his tone shifting into a more casual, deadpan delivery, "a lot of you have asked me the exact same question. The media has asked it. My teammates have asked it. Even my own relatives asked it this morning during the Mehendi."
He looked at Prabhas and Rana. "You all want to know how this happened. How did I manage to meet someone outside the cricket circuit, and how did we hide it for five years."
The crowd chuckled.
"To understand that, we have to go back to 2011," Siddanth explained. "Right after we won the World Cup."
A loud cheer erupted from Suresh Raina and Yuvraj Singh at the mention of the World Cup.
"I was nineteen," Siddanth said. "I was very popular. The media was everywhere. And I had to write my final degree exams. I did not want the exam hall to turn into a press conference. So, I spoke directly to the principal of the exam center."
Siddanth started pacing slowly across the stage, holding the mic like a stand-up comedian.
"I made a deal with the principal," Siddanth explained. "I told him I would write the exam wearing a black surgical mask and a pulled-down baseball cap. I asked for his official permission to hide my face. He agreed. He told his invigilators to keep it a secret."
Siddanth stopped pacing. He looked down at Krithika.
"I thought my plan was perfect," Siddanth said. "I sat down. I opened my paper. I kept my head down. Then... someone sitting behind me tapped me on the shoulder."
The crowd went completely silent, fully engaged in the story. Krithika covered her mouth with her hand, realizing exactly which story he was telling.
"I ignored it," Siddanth stated simply. "I am in disguise. I am trying to focus. Ten minutes later, that someone didn't just tap me. That someone pulled the back of my shirt. Hard."
Laughter rippled through the audience. Sameer shook his head, knowing exactly how stubborn Krithika could be.
"I turned around slightly," Siddanth continued. "She looked at me. She pointed her pen at her question paper. She whispered, 'Show me the answer for question number four.'"
Virat Kohli burst out laughing, clapping his hands.
"I looked at her," Siddanth said, his face completely deadpan. "I shook my head. I turned back around. I do not cheat. I am a disciplined athlete."
"Liar!" Yuvraj shouted from the back.
Siddanth ignored the interruption. "Five minutes passed. She didn't tap my shoulder this time. She took her pen and poked me in the middle of my spine."
Krithika put both her hands over her face, turning bright red as her mother and Sesikala looked at her in shock.
"She poked me," Siddanth repeated into the microphone. "I turned around again. She looked at me with this incredibly innocent, highly desperate face. She pleaded with her eyes. She whispered, 'Please. Just one answer. I will fail.'"
Siddanth sighed dramatically. "I looked at that face. And I compromised my morals. I shifted my paper to the side so she could see the answer."
The audience cheered loudly.
"The exam finished," Siddanth said. "I submitted my paper. I tried to leave quickly through the door to maintain my disguise. But she cornered me in the hallway."
Siddanth mimicked standing against a wall.
"She trapped me," he said. "And she looked at me, completely angry. She said, 'Why did you take so long to show the paper? Are you a descendant of Mahatma Gandhi? Is truth and non-violence your family business?'"
A massive roar of laughter echoed through the Kakatiya walls. Rajamouli clapped his hands, highly entertained by the dialogue. Krithika buried her face in her mother's shoulder.
"I was stunned," Siddanth admitted. "I told her I could get caught. Then, she pulled out her phone. She looked at me and said, 'Give me your number. I need to call you for doubts before the next exam.'"
Siddanth paused for comedic effect.
"I very much doubted she had actual doubts," Siddanth said flatly.
More laughter from the cricketers.
"But I was trapped," Siddanth explained. "I was wearing a mask. I was wearing a cap. If I argued with her in the hallway, she would create a scene. The other students would look. My disguise would be compromised. I was terrified of being recognized. So, out of fear for my secret identity, I dictated my phone number to her."
"Coward!" Shikhar Dhawan yelled.
"Yes, Shikhar, I was a coward," Siddanth agreed immediately into the mic. "From that day on, every single exam day, she would threaten me. She would sit behind me and demand answers. And out of fear, I complied. But slowly... the threats turned into conversations. The conversations turned into phone calls. The phone calls turned into five years of my life."
The laughter in the crowd slowly faded into a warm, quiet silence.
Siddanth looked directly at Krithika. He stopped pacing.
"I hope the threats continue," Siddanth said quietly, his voice losing the comedic edge. "I hope the demands never stop. Because those demands kept me grounded. When the whole world looked at me as a captain, or a public figure... she just looked at me as the guy who was too slow to share his exam paper."
Krithika looked up at him. The shyness was gone, replaced by a deep, emotional stillness.
"Thank you," Siddanth said, his voice echoing softly. "Thank you for poking me in the back. Thank you for coming into my life. And thank you for supporting me through every injury, every tour, and every bad match."
The audience remained completely silent.
Siddanth turned his head slightly and looked at the DJ. He gave a single, subtle nod.
The DJ pressed a button on his console.
The heavy bass was gone. Instead, the soft, incredibly melodic, timeless sound of an acoustic guitar and a gentle flute began to play through the massive speakers. The music was kept deliberately low, filling the background without overpowering the space.
It was the opening instrumental track of the legendary Ilaiyaraaja song, *Priyatama Neevachata Kusalama*.
The older generation in the audience immediately recognized the classic tune. They smiled. The younger crowd recognized the melody from countless late-night radio shows and movies.
Siddanth held the microphone. He looked directly at Krithika. He did not look at the audience anymore. The entire vibe shifted. It felt exactly like a scene out of a movie — a crowded room, but only two people existing in it.
He waited for the flute solo to end. He lifted the mic.
His voice was deep, entirely untrained, but perfectly pitched and carried immense raw emotion.
"**Priyatama... neevachata kusalama...**"
*Beloved, are you well there?*
"**Nenichata... kusalame...**"
*Here I am, I am well...*
Krithika's eyes widened slightly. She did not know he was going to sing. A deep shy blush crept up her cheeks as she looked down at her hands, unable to hold his intense gaze.
The crowd began clapping softly in rhythm with the gentle melody — *Clap... clap... clap...* — a warm, steady pulse that filled the courtyard.
Siddanth took a slow step forward on the stage, extending one hand toward her as if reaching out.
"**Kammani ee prema lekhane... raasindhi hrudayame...**"
*This sweet love letter... was written by my heart...*
"**Priyatama neevachata kusalama... nenichata kusalame...**"
The rhythmic clapping grew a little louder, perfectly in sync. Krithika bit her lower lip, her face flushed with shyness, occasionally stealing glances at him with a small smile.
"**Oohalanni paatale... kanula thotalo...**"
*All my dreams have become songs... in the garden of my eyes...*
"**Tholi kalala kavitale... maata maatalo...**"
*The poetry of my first dreams... is in every word I speak...*
Siddanth gestured with his free hand, opening his palm toward his heart, then toward Krithika, fully immersed in the performance. The crowd continued their soft rhythmic clapping.
"**Oho... Kammani ee prema lekhane... raasindhi hrudayame...**"
*Oh ho... This sweet love letter... was written by my heart...*
He walked slowly to the edge of the stage, eyes never leaving her. Krithika kept her gaze mostly lowered, cheeks burning red, a shy yet radiant smile playing on her lips.
The DJ looped the instrumental interlude. Siddanth lowered the microphone for a moment.
The audience broke into louder, rhythmic clapping — *Clap. Clap. Clap.* — encouraging him. Siddanth looked at Krithika. She looked back up, still shy but smiling genuinely, her eyes shining with emotion.
The music swelled again. Siddanth raised the mic, continuing with deep feeling and gentle gestures.
"**Gundello gaayamedho... challanga maanipoye...**"
*Some wound in the heart... has gently healed...*
"**Maaya chese aa maaye... premaaye...**"
*That magical illusion... has become love...*
"**Yenta gaayamaina gaani... naa menikemigaadhu...**"
*No matter how deep the wound... it doesn't hurt me...*
"**Puvvu sokhi nee sokhu... kandhene...**"
*When the flower is happy, its fragrance... reaches me...*
Krithika covered her face partially with her hands in shyness, peeking through her fingers as the crowd clapped rhythmically.
Siddanth poured more emotion into the final verses, gesturing expressively with both hands as if narrating their love story on stage.
"**Veliki raani verri prema... kanniti dharalona karuguthunnadhi...**"
*This crazy love that never sees light... is melting in streams of tears...*
"**Nadhu sokhamopaleka... nee gunde badhapadithe thalanannadhi...**"
*Unable to bear my sorrow... if your heart aches, it tells me...*
"**Manushulerugaleru mamulu prema kadhu... agni kante swachamainadhi...**"
*People may not understand... this is no ordinary love... it is purer than fire...*
"**Mamakarame nee laali paataga... raasedhi hrudayama...**"
*This affection has become your lullaby... written by my heart...*
"**Umadeviga shivuni ardha bhagamai... naalona niluvuma...**"
*Like Uma becoming half of Shiva... stay within me forever...*
The crowd's rhythmic clapping swelled beautifully during the laali paata section.
"**Shubha laali laali jo... laali laali jo...**"
*Blessed lullaby... laali jo...*
"**Umadevi laali jo... laali laali jo...**"
Siddanth closed his eyes for the final lines, voice softening with raw emotion, then opened them to look straight at Krithika.
"**Mamakarame nee laali paataga... raasedhi hrudayama...**
**Naa hrudayama...**"
*This affection has become your lullaby... written by my heart... my heart...*
"**Priyatama... neevachata kusalama...**
**Nenichata... kusalame.**"
The DJ slowly faded the backing track out to zero. The final note of the flute drifted off into the night air.
For two seconds, nobody moved.
Then, Krithika stood up from the sofa. She didn't care about the cameras, the actors, or the cricketers. She clapped her hands together, looking directly at him with a radiant yet still slightly shy smile.
That was the signal. The entire Kakatiya courtyard erupted.
Virender Sehwag stood up, whistling loudly. Yuvraj and Virat jumped out of their chairs, clapping wildly. Rajamouli nodded approvingly, deeply moved by the performance.
Siddanth lowered the microphone. He gave a small, respectful bow and walked down the wooden stairs. He handed the wireless microphone to one of the workers standing near the monitor speakers.
He walked directly back to the front row. Krithika was still standing. She looked at him, shaking her head slowly in disbelief.
"You didn't tell me you were going to sing," Krithika said, her voice barely audible over the clapping crowd.
"I didn't want you to panic and run away," Siddanth said calmly, stepping up to the sofa.
Sesikala leaned over from her seat and patted Siddanth's shoulder firmly. "That was beautiful, Siddu. Very well done."
"Thank you, Amma," Siddanth smiled, taking his seat next to Krithika.
The DJ standing on the wooden stage stepped back from his massive console, letting the crowd's applause naturally fade out. He reached for his headphones, preparing to start the dance music, when a loud, amplified voice echoed from the third row.
"Wait! Wait!"
Sameer stood on top of his velvet chair. He was holding the portable plastic megaphone he had used during the morning volleyball match.
"Hold the music, DJ!" Sameer yelled through the megaphone. He pointed the plastic cone directly at the front row. "We heard the prosecution. Now we need to hear the defense! Krithika! Krithika! Krithika!"
Sameer started chanting her name. It took exactly two seconds for Virat Kohli to join in. Virat stood up, clapping his hands rhythmically. "Krithika! Krithika!"
Shikhar Dhawan, Rohit Sharma, and Yuvraj Singh immediately joined the chant. Within ten seconds, the entire Indian squad, the Tollywood actors, and the extended family members were clapping and chanting her name.
"Go to the stage," Siddanth said, sitting back in his sofa and crossing his arms comfortably. "They are not going to stop. Sameer will bring that megaphone into our house if you don't go up there."
Krithika looked at her parents. Subba Rao smiled and gave her a small nod of encouragement. Suma laughed and clapped along with the crowd.
Krithika took a deep breath, smoothed down her deep green lehenga, and walked toward the stage.
The crowd cheered louder as she climbed the wooden stairs. The DJ quickly grabbed a wireless microphone from the console stand, flicked the power switch on, and handed it to her. He then immediately muted all background tracks, plunging the courtyard into a quiet, focused silence.
Krithika stood in the center of the stage. She held the microphone with both hands. She looked out at the massive crowd. She saw Rajamouli, Prabhas, Sachin, and Sehwag all looking at her expectantly. She saw Siddanth sitting in the front row, completely relaxed, a slight smirk on his face.
She tapped the microphone twice with her index finger.
"Thank you," Krithika began, her voice steady and clear through the massive speakers. "Thank you all for coming. And thank you, Siddanth, for that highly edited, heavily biased version of our history."
The crowd immediately laughed. Sameer whistled through his megaphone.
"I have to clear my name," Krithika said, adopting a serious, formal tone. "First of all, what he said about the exam hall is technically true. It happened. But let us look at the context."
She took a step forward, addressing the cricketers sitting in the second row.
"We live in the twenty-first century," Krithika stated. "We were in a college. There are unwritten rules. There are laws of survival. In my defense, who in the twenty-first century does not show their papers for copying? It is written in the student code. If someone taps you on the shoulder and asks you to show the answers, you show it. And they should do the same for you. It is basic human decency. You do not shake your head and act like a disciplined student. If you know the answer for the question, you share the answer. Sharing is caring."
"Exactly!" Dhawan yelled from the crowd, raising his hand in agreement. "Basic decency! The man has no ethics!"
"Thank you, Shikhar," Krithika nodded. "And do not get me started on his excuses. He stood up here and said he gave me his number because he was terrified of his disguise being compromised. That is entirely false."
She pointed directly at Siddanth in the front row.
"For the first five months of our friendship, I did not know what his face looked like. We were not even boyfriend and girlfriend at that point. We were just friends."
The courtyard went completely silent.
"Five months," Krithika repeated. "We used to meet near the campus library. He would show up wearing a surgical mask, a black cap pulled down over his eyes, and a thick hoodie. In June. In that humidity."
Laughter rippled through the audience.
"I asked him on the second day, 'Why are you wearing a mask? Do you have a dust allergy? Do you have a cold?'" Krithika recounted. "You know what he told me? He told me he had a massive operation inside his mouth. He said his jaw was heavily stitched under the mask."
Krithika shook her head in disbelief.
"He wouldn't eat anything when we sat together," she continued. "He would only drink fruit juice. Through a straw. Pushed carefully under the edge of the surgical mask so I couldn't see his lips."
Siddanth covered his face with his hand, laughing silently in the front row.
"I asked him to take the mask off just once," Krithika said. "He refused. He said it looked terrible. I asked him, 'Is it swollen? Do you look like a chipmunk?' And he looked me dead in the eye and nodded his head. He told me he looked like a chipmunk."
Dhawan burst into a loud, booming laugh from the back row. "A chipmunk?"
"So I felt bad for him!" Krithika defended herself to the crowd. "I let it go. I just assumed I was talking to a very nice, highly deformed student."
She paused, taking a breath, letting the laughter die down.
"Then came October 8, 2011," Krithika announced.
The cricketers immediately recognized the date. "The England series," Rohit Sharma said aloud.
"Yes," Krithika nodded. "India versus England. Right here in Hyderabad at the Uppal Stadium. Siddanth called me the week before. He said he could get VIP pavilion tickets for me and my friends. I asked him how a guy who drinks juice through a straw afforded VIP tickets."
"He told me his friend's brother worked in the BCCI. He said they had extra passes."
"Classic excuse," Sehwag noted from the front row, nodding his head sagely.
"I believed him," Krithika admitted. "I was a massive cricket fan. Actually, I was a huge fan of Siddanth Deva. I spent three hours the night before the match making a massive, neon pink cardboard plaque. I bought glitter. I bought markers. I wrote 'MARRY ME DEVA' in huge block letters."
Siddanth's mother, Sesikala, looked at Krithika with wide eyes. Krithika smiled sheepishly at her mother-in-law.
"I even told him I was making the poster," Krithika laughed. "I told the chipmunk that I was going to propose to Siddanth Deva at the stadium. He just listened and said, 'Good luck with that. I hear he is very focused on his bowling.'"
The audience roared with laughter. Yuvraj Singh hit the armrest of his chair.
"So, I go to the stadium," Krithika narrated, pacing the stage slowly. "I am in the front row of the pavilion. I am holding my neon pink poster. I am screaming his name. And during the entire match, he didn't even glance at me. Not once."
Krithika pointed an accusing finger at Siddanth.
"In the first innings, he was fielding right near the boundary," Krithika said. "I yelled at him. I taunted him. I said, 'Turn around! Just look at the poster!' He completely ignored me. He just stood there like a statue. It actually made me incredibly angry."
She stopped pacing and looked at the crowd.
"Now, let me give you some background," Krithika explained. "A few months before this match, Siddanth and I were talking in private. Chipmunk was badmouthing Siddanth Deva. He was saying Deva was getting too aggressive, that he felt Deva was acting arrogant. I argued with him fiercely. I told him, 'Don't you dare say something like that about Deva. He is not arrogant.' I defended his character."
Krithika sighed into the microphone.
"But sitting in that stadium during the first innings," she continued, "watching him completely ignore his fans, completely ignore my poster... I got mad. I pulled out my phone and I sent a text message to the chipmunk. And in that text, I used the exact words we had talked about. I texted him: Siddanth deva is arrogant and prideful as you said."
She shook her head. "How would I know it would come back and bite me an hour later?"
Siddanth grinned from the sofa.
"The match finished," Krithika said. "India won. The players were doing their lap of honor. He walked directly toward my section."
The courtyard quieted down.
"The crowd was going crazy," Krithika remembered, her voice softening slightly. "He walked right up to the stand where me and my friends are standing. He stood right in front of me. I thought I was going to pass out. He looked at my neon pink poster. He signed autograph for my friends. He took my hand. He shook it. He leaned down and kissed my knuckles. And then he looked me in the eyes and said, 'I do.'"
"Ohhhhh!" Sameer yelled into the megaphone, acting like a complete fanboy.
"I was thrilled," Krithika said. "I thought, 'Wow, he actually read my sign.' I thought he was just being incredibly polite to a fan."
Krithika paused, holding the mic close.
"But then," she said quietly. "He didn't let go of my hand. He leaned in closer to the barricade, right next to my ear, over the noise of thirty thousand screaming people. And he whispered exactly what I had texted him an hour earlier."
Krithika lowered her voice, mimicking Siddanth's deep tone. "I hope I am not acting arrogant and prideful right now."
A collective gasp echoed through the crowd, followed instantly by massive cheering and whistling. Rajamouli stood up and clapped. "Brilliant screenplay! Outstanding interval bang!"
"It clicked immediately," Krithika laughed, waiting for the cheers to die down. "The text message. The voice. The height. The attitude. The mask man and the fastest bowler in the world were the exact same person. I just stood there frozen against the barricade while he walked into the dressing room."
She smiled, looking at her parents, who were shaking their heads at the story.
"We continued seeing each other after that," Krithika explained. "But the real challenge wasn't his secret identity. The real challenge was meeting his parents."
Krithika looked directly at Sesikala. Sesikala smiled warmly.
"In the 2012 Asia Cup, he injured his leg," Krithika narrated. "He couldn't leave his house for two months."
"I missed him," Krithika said. "But I couldn't just walk up to the front gate. And introduce myself as his girlfriend. So, I went to the farmhouse claiming I was a junior reporter from ETV News doing a special feature on Siddanth Deva."
"No way," Virat laughed loudly.
"Yes," Krithika nodded. "That was the first time I met my sweet Athamma and Mamayya. They invited the 'reporter' inside. They gave me coffee."
Krithika's eyes glinted mischievously. She looked at Siddanth. "And because I was a 'reporter' doing a 'special feature,' I asked his mother for childhood pictures to use in the broadcast."
Siddanth's eyes widened slightly. He sat up straighter.
"Athamma was so proud," Krithika told the crowd. "She brought out the massive family photo album. And right there, on page four... was a crystal clear, high-definition photograph of Siddanth Deva, at five years old... wearing a bright floral skirt."
The entire courtyard exploded into absolute hysterics.
Yuvraj Singh fell out of his chair, laughing so hard he grabbed his stomach. Shikhar Dhawan clapped his hands repeatedly, screaming with laughter. Prabhas and Rana doubled over in the back row.
Siddanth dropped his head into his hands, groaning audibly. Sameer pointed his megaphone directly at Siddanth and hit the siren button.
"A floral skirt!" Virat yelled over the noise. "The Devil wore a skirt!"
"I still have the picture," Krithika announced over the microphone, holding up her phone for emphasis. "It is safely locked in my digital vault. If he ever tries to act like a strict captain inside the house, that picture is going on Twitter."
The crowd cheered her threat loudly.
"But eventually," Krithika said, letting the laughter settle down and walking to the edge of the stage. "Athamma caught our relationship. My Athamma is one of the most lovely, caring persons in the entire world. But she is also a human lie detector. She can instantly tell if someone is lying. And the problem is... Siddanth cannot lie."
Krithika pointed at the stoic, composed Siddanth, who had finally recovered his composure.
"He is a tactical genius on the cricket field," Krithika stated. "He runs billion-dollar tech companies. But if his mother asks him a simple question, he short-circuits. He cannot lie to her with a straight face."
The aunts in the crowd laughed loudly, completely agreeing with her assessment.
"I had to be spontaneous all the time to cover for him," Krithika explained. "I was the one who came up with the ETV reporter excuse. Later, I came up with the excuse that I was interviewing for his company when I frequently went to meet him at his house. He was useless at lying."
Krithika looked at her own parents, her voice turning emotional.
"When Athamma found out, she didn't get angry," Krithika said softly. "She was supportive of our relationship. She told me, 'If this is serious, you need to tell your parents. It is much better they hear the news from their daughter than from an outsider or the media.'"
Suma, Krithika's mother, wiped a small tear from her eye.
"So, We did," Krithika said. "Siddanth drove to my house. He sat in my living room. My parents were completely terrified at first. They thought the media would destroy us. But Siddanth didn't talk about cricket. He didn't talk about his fame. He just sat there, drank my mother's tea, and won their hearts instantly."
She looked at Siddanth.
"Thank you," Krithika said, her voice wavering slightly. "Thank you for letting me in your heart. For taking off the mask. And for building this fortress so we could finally stand here today."
She took a deep breath.
"I might not sing as well as Siddanth," Krithika warned the crowd, smiling as she wiped her eyes. "I definitely did not practice for a week. But bear with me."
Krithika turned her head toward the DJ console. The DJ gave her a thumbs up. He pressed a button on his laptop.
A soft, rhythmic acoustic guitar began playing through the massive speakers. It was followed by the gentle, modern beat of an electronic synthesizer. It was the iconic opening track of the song Vintunnavaa from the romantic movie Ye Maaya Chesave.
The younger crowd immediately recognized it and started cheering. Sameer pumped his fist in the air. Siddanth leaned back in his sofa, watching her intently.
Krithika held the microphone with both hands. She waited for the beat to settle, closed her eyes for a second to find her pitch.
She opened her eyes and looked directly at Siddanth.
"**Palukulu nee pere taluchukunna...**"
*Even if my words keep spelling your name...*
"**Pedavula anchullo anuchukunna...**"
*I have held them back at the edge of my lips...*
"**Mounamutho nee madhini bandhincha...**"
*With silence, I have bound your heart...*
"**Manninchu priyaa...**"
*Please forgive me, my love...*
The audience let out a collective "Aww." Krithika smiled shyly as the crowd began clapping gently in rhythm.
The DJ brought up the instrumental break — a beautiful flute and violin solo echoed through the stone walls. The clapping grew stronger — *Clap. Clap. Clap.* — perfectly in sync with the melody.
Krithika gained confidence and walked slowly to the edge of the wooden stage, standing directly above Siddanth.
"**Tarime varama... Tadime swarama...**"
*O boon that follows me... O voice that stirs me...*
"**Idhigo ee janma needani antunna...**" *Here, I declare this life is yours...*
"**Vintunnavaa... Vintunnavaa... Vintunnavaa...**"
Siddanth sat up straighter, his eyes locked on her with visible pride. Sameer whistled loudly from the third row.
"**Tarime varama... Tadime swarama...**"
"**Idhigo ee janma needani antunna...**"
"**Vintunnavaa... Vintunnavaa... Vintunnavaa...**"
"**Vintunnavaa... Vintunnavaa...**"
The rhythmic clapping continued enthusiastically.
"**Vinna vevela vinala...**"
*I've heard a thousand unheard melodies...*
"**Santhoshala sankeerthanalu...**"
*Of joyous anthems...*
"**Na gundello ippude vintunna...**"
*Now ringing inside my heart...*
"**Tolisari nee matallo...**"
*For the first time in your words...*
"**Pulakinthala padanisalu vinna...**"
*I heard the music of goosebumps...*
"**Chaalu chaale cheliya cheliya...**"
*Enough, enough, my dear...*
"**Bathikundaga nee pilupulu nenu vinna...**"
*Even while alive, I heard your calls...*
"**Ooo bathikundaga... Nee pilupulu nenu vinna...**"
Yuvraj and Shikhar Dhawan clapped louder, clearly enjoying the romantic exchange. The entire courtyard was now fully engaged, many swaying to the melody.
"**Yemo yemo em avuthundo...**"
*Whatever is happening...*
"**Yedemaina nuvve chusuko...**"
*Whatever it is, you take care of it...*
"**Viduvanu ninne ika paina...**"
*I won't leave you from now on...*
"**Vintunnavaa priyaa...**"
The crowd clapped enthusiastically during this heartfelt plea. Sesikala wiped a tear from the corner of her eye while smiling proudly at her future daughter-in-law.
"**Gaalilo tella kaagithamla...**"
*Like a white paper floating in the wind...*
"**Nenala theli aaduthunte...**"
*Shining and playing...*
"**Nanne aapi nuvve raasinaa...**"
*You stopped me and wrote...*
"**Aa patalane vintunna...**"
*Those songs, I am listening to...*
"**Tarime varama... Tadime swarama...**"
"**Idhigo ee janma needhani antunna...**"
"**Vintunnavaa... Vintunnavaa... Vintunnavaa...**"
"**Vintunnavaa... Vintunnavaa...**"
The clapping swelled beautifully.
"**Aadhyantham yedho yedho anubhuthi...**"
*Some feeling from beginning to end...*
"**Anavaragam ila andhinchedhi...**"
*Endlessly giving like this...*
"**Gaganam kanna munupatidhi...**"
*Older than the sky...*
"**Bhuthalam kanna idi venukatidhi...**"
*Deeper than the earth...*
"**Kalam thona puttindhi...**"
*Born with time...*
"**Kalam la maare manasse lenidhi prema...**"
*Love that doesn't change with time...*
"**Ra ila kowgillalo ninnu daachukunta...**"
*Come, I'll hide you in my embrace...*
"**Needaninai ninne daari chesukunta...**"
*Becoming your shadow, I'll make my path...*
"**Evarini kaluvani chotulalona...**"
*In places where no one meets...*
"**Evarini taluvani velalalona...**"
*In times no one touches...*
"**Tarime varama... Tadime swarama...**"
"**Idhigo ee janma needhani antunna...**"
"**Vintunnavaa... Vintunnavaa... Vintunnavaa...**"
"**Vintunnavaa...**"
Krithika returned to the softer final lines, her voice full of emotion.
"**Vinna vevela veenala...**"
"**Santhoshala sankeerthanalu...**"
"**Naa gundello ippude vintunna...**"
"**Tolisari nee matallo pulakinthala...**"
"**Padanisalu vinna...**"
"**Chaalu chaale cheliya cheliya...**"
"**Bathikundaga nee pilupulu nenu vinna...**"
"**Chaalu chaale cheliya cheliya...**"
"**Bathikundaga nee pilupulu nenu vinna...**"
"**Ooo bathikundaga nee pilupulu nenu vinna...**"
The final synthesizer beat echoed and faded out perfectly into the night air.
Krithika lowered the microphone, breathing a little heavily, and stood on the edge of the stage with a radiant yet shy smile, looking straight at Siddanth.
Siddanth was the first to stand up. He clapped loudly and enthusiastically, his usual composed expression replaced by pure admiration. The entire Kakatiya courtyard erupted in thunderous applause.
Sameer pressed the siren button on his megaphone, cutting through the cheers. Dhawan and Rohit stood up, whistling loudly. S.S. Rajamouli rose and applauded vigorously, clearly moved by the couple's heartfelt back-and-forth storytelling through music.