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 faded away. Instead, the soft, melodic strings and gentle rhythm of *Main Rang Sharbaton Ka* from *Phata Poster Nikhla Hero* filled the courtyard.
The older guests smiled warmly at the romantic melody, while the younger crowd leaned forward in excitement.
Siddanth held the microphone. He looked directly at Krithika. The entire vibe shifted — it felt like only the two of them existed in the crowded courtyard. He performed with expressive gestures, slow steps across the stage, and eyes locked on her, just like a heartfelt stage act.
"**Khwaab hai tu, neend hoon main...**"
*You are the dream, I am the sleep...*
"**Dono mile, raat bane...**"
*When we meet, the night is complete...*
"**Roz yahi maangun duaa...**"
*Every day I pray for this...*
"**Teri meri baat bane.. baat bane..**"
*That you and I become one... become one...*
Krithika's eyes widened in surprise. 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 — *Clap... clap... clap...* — a warm, steady pulse.
Siddanth took a slow step forward, extending one hand toward her as if reaching out.
"**Main rang sharbaton ka...**"
*I am the color of sherbets...*
"**Tu meethe ghaat ka paani...**"
*You are the sweet waters of the riverbank...*
"**Mujhe khud mein ghol de to...**"
*Dissolve me into yourself...*
"**Mere yaar baat ban jaani...**"
*My love, then everything will fall into place...*
"**Rang sharbaton ka...**"
"**Tu meethi ghaat ka paani...**"
"**Main rang sharbaton ka...**"
"**Tu meethe ghaat ka paani...**"
"**Mujhe khud mein ghol de to...**"
"**Mere yaar baat ban jaani...**"
The rhythmic clapping grew louder and more enthusiastic. Krithika bit her lower lip, her face flushed with shyness, occasionally stealing glances at him with a small, overwhelmed smile. Virat nudged Sameer, both grinning widely.
Siddanth gestured with his free hand, placing it over his heart then opening it toward Krithika, fully immersed.
"**Maine toh dheere se...**"
*Gently, I have...*
"**Neendon ke dhaage se...**"
*With threads of sleep...*
"**Bandha hai khwabon ko tere...**"
*Tied all my dreams to you...*
"**Main na jahaan chahun...**"
*I desire neither the world...*
"**Na aasmaan chahun...**"
*Nor the skies...*
"**Aaja hisse mein tu mere...**"
*Come, be a part of me...*
"**Tu dhang chahaton ka...**"
*You are the rhythm of desires...*
"**Main jaise koi naadani...**"
*I am like some innocent fool...*
"**Mujhe khud se jod le toh...**"
*If you join me to yourself...*
"**Mere yaar baat ban jaani...**"
*My love, then everything will fall into place...*
The audience clapped rhythmically during the interlude. Siddanth walked to the edge of the stage, eyes never leaving Krithika. She kept her gaze mostly lowered, cheeks burning, yet smiling radiantly.
"**Rang sharbaton ka...**"
"**Tu meethe ghaat ka paani...**"
"**Main rang sharbaton ka...**"
"**Tu meethe ghaat ka paani...**"
"**Mujhe khud mein ghol de to...**"
"**Mere yaar baat ban jaani...**"
The DJ looped the instrumental. Siddanth lowered the mic briefly. The crowd broke into louder clapping — *Clap. Clap. Clap.* — encouraging him. Siddanth looked at Krithika; she looked back up, still shy but her eyes shining with emotion.
"**Tune jo dekha hai, tune jo jaana hai...**"
*What you have seen, what you have known...*
"**Hoon bhi nahi bhi hoon main woh...**"
*I am and I am not that person...*
"**Chahoge tum jaisa...**"
*Whatever you wish...*
"**Ho jaaunga waise...**"
*I will become that...*
"**Chaaho toh waada ye le lo...**"
*If you want, take this promise...*
"**Tum ek musafir ho...**"
*You are a traveler...*
"**Main koi raah anjaani...**"
*I am an unknown path...*
"**Mann chaah mod de toh...**"
*If you turn my heart's desire...*
"**Mere yaar baat ban jaani...**"
*My love, then everything will fall into place...*
Siddanth closed his eyes for the final passionate lines, voice softening with raw emotion, then opened them to look straight at Krithika.
"**Rang sharbaton ka...**"
"**Tu meethe ghaat ka paani...**"
"**Main rang sharbaton ka...**"
"**Tu meethe ghaat ka paani...**"
"**Mujhe khud mein ghol de toh...**"
"**Mere yaar baat ban jaani...**"
"**Rang sharbaton ka...**"
"**Tu meethe ghaat ka paani...**"
The DJ slowly faded the backing track out. The final notes drifted into the night air.
For two seconds, nobody moved.
Then, Krithika stood up from the sofa, clapping with a radiant yet shy smile. The entire Kakatiya courtyard erupted in thunderous applause.
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."
Krithika took a deep breath.
"I might not sing as well as Siddanth," she warned the crowd with a shy smile, "but bear with me."
The DJ pressed a button. The soft, upbeat rhythm of *Yeh Ishq Hai* from *Jab We Met* filled the courtyard with its joyful energy.
The younger crowd cheered instantly. Siddanth leaned back in his sofa, watching her with an affectionate smile.
Krithika held the microphone with both hands, closed her eyes briefly, then opened them and looked directly at Siddanth. As the beat picked up, she began swaying gently, taking light, graceful steps on the stage — small spins that made her deep green lehenga swirl elegantly, her hands moving in soft, expressive gestures.
"**Haan... hai koi to wajah...**"
*Yes... there must be some reason...*
"**Jo jeene ka maaza yun aane laga...**"
*That living feels so joyful these days...*
"**Yeh... hawaon mein hai kya...**"
*What is this in the air...*
"**Thoda sa jo nasha yun chhaane laga...**"
*A sweet intoxication slowly spreading...*
She did a playful half-twirl, her lehenga flaring beautifully. The crowd let out a warm cheer. Siddanth smiled wider, his eyes following her every graceful move.
"**Pucho na pucho mujhe kya hua hai...**"
*Don't ask what has happened to me...*
"**Teri raahon mein aakar...**"
*Coming into your path...*
"**Pucho na pucho mujhe kya milega...**"
*Don't ask what I will find...*
"**Teri bahon mein aakar...**"
*Coming into your arms...*
The crowd began clapping rhythmically — *Clap. Clap. Clap.* Krithika gained confidence and took a few light dance steps forward, swaying her hips gently to the beat while singing.
"**Yeh ishq haaye... baithe bithaaye...**"
*This love... oh, it shows heaven...*
"**Jannat dikhaye... haan...**"
*Even while sitting...*
"**O Raama...**"
She spun once more, her gold-threaded lehenga catching the yellow lights. Siddanth leaned forward slightly, smiling brightly — a rare, genuine, affectionate smile that reached his eyes as he watched her dance and sing.
The clapping grew stronger. Sameer whistled from the third row.
"**Yeh ishq haaye... baithe bithaaye...**"
"**Jannat dikhaye... haan...**"
Krithika continued, her voice sweet and full of emotion as she took small, rhythmic steps across the stage, gesturing with one hand toward Siddanth.
"**Todi maine saare hi bandhan zaamane tere...**"
*I have broken all the worldly bonds for you...*
"**Todungi na mein vaada...**"
*I will never break my promise...*
"**Aadha hissa mere dil ki kahani ka tu...**"
*You are half the story of my heart...*
"**Piya mein baaki aadha...**"
*And the rest is you, my love...*
She did a graceful sway, her hands forming soft mudras near her heart, then opening toward Siddanth. The audience clapped enthusiastically. Siddanth's smile deepened, clearly mesmerized and happy seeing her enjoy the moment.
"**Dekho na dekho mujhe kya hua hai...**"
*Look what has happened to me...*
"**Teri yaadon mein kho kar...**"
*Losing myself in your memories...*
"**Pucho na pucho mujhe kya hua hai...**"
*Don't ask what has happened to me...*
"**Teri baaton mein ji kar...**"
*Living in your words...*
"**Yeh ishq haaye... baithe bithaaye...**"
"**Jannat dikhaye... haan...**"
"**O Raama...**"
The entire courtyard was now swaying along. Virat and Rohit clapped loudly, grinning.
Krithika poured more emotion and energy into the next verse, adding playful dance steps — gentle footwork and a light spin that made her lehenga flow beautifully.
"**Mere jaise lakhon mile honge tujhko piya...**"
*You must have met thousands like me, my love...*
"**Mujhe to mila tu hi...**"
*But I found only you...*
"**Tu hi mere hothon ke khilti hui si hasen...**"
*You are the blooming smile on my lips...*
"**Yeh labh hi piya tu hi...**"
*These lips belong to you alone...*
Siddanth chuckled softly, his smile turning into a warm, loving grin as he watched her dance freely on stage.
"**Dekho na dekho mujhe kya hua hai...**"
*Look what has happened to me...*
"**Tujhe sapno mein laakar...**"
*Bringing you into my dreams...*
"**Pucho na pucho mujhe kya hua hai...**"
*Don't ask what has happened to me...*
"**Teri baaton mein aakar...**"
*Coming into your words...*
"**Yeh ishq haaye... baithe bithaaye...**"
"**Jannat dikhaye... haan...**"
"**O Raama...**"
She repeated the chorus with full joy, adding a final graceful spin and light steps.
"**Yeh ishq haaye... baithe bithaaye...**"
"**Jannat dikhaye... haan...**"
The final beats faded out perfectly into the night air.
Krithika lowered the microphone, breathing lightly with a radiant, slightly shy smile, her cheeks flushed from singing and dancing.
Siddanth was the first to stand up. He clapped enthusiastically, still smiling warmly as he watched her. The entire Kakatiya courtyard erupted in thunderous applause.
Sameer pressed the siren on his megaphone. Dhawan and Rohit whistled loudly. S.S. Rajamouli rose and applauded vigorously, clearly delighted by the couple's heartfelt performances.