"Whatever my Mishti says," he murmured under his breath, smiling to himself as he trailed behind her—his heart completely, hopelessly hers.

As the group finally reached the starting point of Vaishno Devi’s chadhai (trek), the fresh mountain air surrounded them, carrying with it a sense of serenity and devotion. The path stretched ahead, bustling with pilgrims, the rhythmic chants of "Jai Mata Di" echoing in the atmosphere.

Arushi let out a small sigh as she looked up at the climb ahead. “Mummy, hum log bhi woh stick le lein?” she asked, eyeing the wooden trekking sticks available nearby.

Kirti raised a brow, smirking. “Kyun? Buddhi ho gayi hai?” she teased.

Arushi pouted dramatically, “Main thak jaungi.” She clung onto her mother’s arm, her voice laced with the slightest bit of complaint.

Before Kirti could respond, a familiar voice whispered from behind, "My arms are always open."

Arushi’s eyes widened as she felt Reyansh’s warm breath near her ear. A deep blush crept onto her cheeks, and without a second thought, she elbowed him straight in the stomach.

Reyansh let out a low chuckle, rubbing his stomach.

Meanwhile, Siya was walking ahead, unaware of the mischief brewing beside her.

Shashwat, walking casually beside her, was deep in conversation with Harsh. His face was composed, but his hands had other plans.

With the slightest movement of his fingers, he clicked his index and thumb against her bangles, making them jingle softly.

Siya stiffened, her brows snapping together in irritation as she shot him a side glare. Yet, Shashwat continued speaking to Harsh with the most innocent expression.

As if he hadn't just done that on purpose.

Siya huffed, stepping forward to walk ahead. But the moment she did, Shashwat clicked her bangles again.

She whipped her head around, her glare sharper this time.

He simply smiled at her, his gaze twinkling with mischief.

Siya narrowed her eyes before stomping ahead, choosing to ignore him. But her ears betrayed her as they turned pink, much to Shashwat’s amusement.

Meanwhile, Ritika was busy creating mini vlogs on her phone, documenting every little moment.

“Hello everyone , you can see we have finally started our vaishno devi journey, you can see everyone's over excited face,” she narrated dramatically, turning the camera toward each member of the group.

Everyone waved at the camera one by one—some smiling, some making goofy faces.

As the camera turned toward Shashwat, his eyes widened slightly. Before Ritika could properly capture him, he quickly turned his face away, hiding shyly.

“Arey, kya sharma raha hai Shashwat?” Ritika teased, zooming in on his semi-hidden face.

As the group descended toward Ban Ganga, the sound of the gentle flowing water welcomed them. The cool mountain breeze carried with it the divine aura of the sacred site, where the holy river, believed to be blessed by Mata Vaishno Devi herself, flowed peacefully. The area was illuminated by soft temple lights, and the chants of devotees filled the air, creating a truly spiritual atmosphere.

Standing near the edge of the water, Harsh turned toward the group and asked,

“Baand Ganga pe pahunch gaye… neeche chalna hai?”

Darsh, already fascinated by the sight, had another idea. His eyes gleamed mischievously as he leaned slightly toward Harsh.

“Naha sakte hain?” he asked, hopeful.

“Chup chaap darshan kar ke chal.” Ishika shut him down immediately, giving him a look that had him straightening up instantly.

With a small chuckle, the group made their way toward the riverbank, where the cool, crystal-clear water invited them to take part in the traditional ritual. One by one, they bent down, cupping the sacred water in their hands, and sprinkled it over their heads as a mark of purification and blessings.

As Siya leaned down to do the same, a few drops of water unexpectedly landed on her head. She blinked in surprise, looking up to find Shashwat standing beside her, his fingers still dripping with the water he had just sprinkled on her.

For a moment, their eyes met.

Shashwat’s lips curled into a soft smile, his eyes twinkling with a quiet fondness. Siya, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture, felt a warm blush rise to her cheeks.

She quickly looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, but the small, shy smile on her lips gave her away.

Meanwhile, Divya’s curiosity got the better of her as she looked around the sacred site.

“Isko Ban Ganga kyun kehte hain?” she asked, turning to the group.

"Mata Vaishno Devi accompanied by Hanuman ji was heading to Trikuta Hills for her tapasya, he felt thirsty. Then vaishno maa shot an arrow in the ground, and a spring sprang up, which is today recognized as Ban Ganga.”Siya’s voice held a soft yet confident lilt as everyone listened attentively.

Divya nodded in understanding, her gaze shifting toward the flowing water as if seeing it in a new light.

Before the moment could get too solemn, Arushi scoffed dramatically and crossed her arms.

“Vaishno Devi movie nahi dekhi kya? Usme bhi dikhaya tha… Maine toh pachaas baar dekh rakhi hai!” she declared proudly.

Siya chuckled, shaking her head. “Hum bhi! Jitni baar TV pe aati thi, dekhte the.”

The nostalgic conversation had a few others nodding along, recalling the countless times they had watched the film in their childhood.

As they soaked in the peaceful aura of the place, Naman suddenly clapped his hands together, catching Ritika and Arav’s attention.

“Ritika, Arav, tum dono darshan kar lo yahan ke saare mandiron ka ek saath.” He suggested, gesturing toward the various shrines nearby.

Ritika, who had been recording snippets of their journey for her vlog, turned toward Arav with a questioning look.

Arav shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Chalo.” He nodded.

As the sun cast a golden hue over the sacred grounds, Ritika and Arav made their way through the temple’s intricate stone pathways, following the parikrama with quiet reverence. The scent of incense lingered in the air, blending with the distant hum of temple bells and devotional chants.

With every step, their hearts felt lighter, the divine atmosphere wrapping them in a sense of peace and belonging.

After completing the parikrama, they approached the main idol, bowing their heads in deep reverence. Together, they touched the deity's feet, seeking blessings for their future. Arav folded his hands in silent prayer, while Ritika stole a glance at him, a soft smile playing on her lips.

As they stepped outside the temple, a jyotish (astrologer) sat on the temple steps, observing them keenly. Dressed in a saffron kurta, with a long rudraksha mala around his neck, he had the aura of someone who had seen the world’s past, present, and future unfold before him.

Just as they were about to walk past him, his voice rang out, stopping them in their tracks.

“Shaadi hone waali hai aap dono ki?” he asked, his piercing gaze shifting between them.

Ritika, always the first to respond, nodded with a bright smile.

“Ji.”

The jyotish hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze flickering as if searching for something beyond the visible. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before speaking again.

“Mushkilein aayengi zindagi mein,” he said gravely, “par ek doosre ka saath rahega toh sab paar kar jaoge.”

Ritika and Arav exchanged glances, his words resonating in the unspoken promises they had already made to each other.

Without hesitation, Arav reached for Ritika’s hand, lacing their fingers together. A silent affirmation.

A promise.

The jyotish smiled at the gesture, nodding as if he had already foreseen it.

Just as Arav was about to thank him and move on, Ritika’s curiosity got the better of her.

“Aur bachhe kitne honge?” she asked eagerly.

Arav’s head snapped toward her, eyes widening in disbelief.

“Ritika!!” he groaned, exasperated but not surprised in the least.

The jyotish let out a hearty chuckle.

“Beta, antaryami nahi hain hum. Bas jo dikha, woh bataya.” He smiled, shaking his head at her enthusiasm.

Ritika pouted dramatically, crossing her arms. “Koi baat nahi. Main khud hi dekh lungi future mein.”

Arav rolled his eyes, sighing as he pulled her closer by the wrist.

“Pagal ho tum.” His voice was affectionate, laced with amusement.

Ritika, unfazed, grinned up at him. “Mere golu ka kya hoga?” she added with a dramatic sigh, referring to their imaginary future child.

Arav shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. He gave her a fond look before tapping her nose playfully.

“Golu ka bhi dekh lenge, Golu ki mummy.”

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