गंगा-जमुना से भी पावन तेरा मेरा बंधन
तेरा प्रेम है फुलवारि और मेरा मन है आँगन
जनमों-जनमों का ही सजनी तेरा मेरा साथ
सातों फेरे होंगे अब हाथों में लेके हाथ
जीवन साथी हम दिया और बाती हम

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Chapter 17 will be updated on Wattpad by 23 March.

Longest chapter of Wattpad history 💀

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As Arav’s eyes lifted toward the balcony, they met Ritika’s teary gaze. His heart swelled with emotions, a mix of overwhelming love and nostalgia. Reyansh stepped forward to help him down from the horse, following the wedding rituals, while the crowd around them buzzed with joy. As soon as the small ceremony was done, Arav leaned toward Akash, whispering something in his ear. Akash grinned mischievously, gave him a thumbs-up, and ran toward the DJ.

Within seconds, the beats of an old yet unforgettable song filled the air—

"Kesariya mhaaro balma, padhaaro mhaari country ma re

Aao, padhaaro..."

A cheer erupted from the crowd as Arushi and Kanak whistled loudly, clapping excitedly. Arav’s gaze never left Ritika’s face as he took slow, deliberate steps toward the center, his expression filled with emotion.

The moment the next line played, he spread his arms dramatically, swaying his shoulders to the music while pointing at Ritika— gesturing for her to join in.

"Hey, 'Dhadaak chik dum,' dhadkan bole jab tu chhat pe aaye

Nain lada ke tujhse man-mandir mein jingle bell ho jaaye"

Arav tapped his chest twice in rhythm with the beats, then swiftly pointed toward Ritika as if to say, You make my heart race! He twirled on his heel, raising one arm above his head and flicking his wrist in a fun, carefree manner, just like a Bollywood hero.

Ritika’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parting in surprise as memories rushed back from seven years ago. Their first date. How they had stumbled upon a random baarat and danced to this very song, laughing uncontrollably.

"Tera haseen chehra, aaha, mere labon se nikla 'waaha'

Dhoondh Google pe jaake, milega Majnu mere jaisa kahaan?"

He pointed at her with both hands, then dramatically flicked his collar as if saying, Look at me, the best Majnu ever! With a playful smirk, he pretended to pull out an imaginary phone, ‘searching’ for a better lover on Google, then shaking his head in denial.

The relatives laughed heartily, some clapped while others, especially the younger cousins, whistled and cheered loudly. A few of his friends smirked, envious of how effortlessly he could express his love in front of so many people.

"Poori paltan ke saath, leke baaraat balma ye tera

Naache, zing, zing, zing, zing, zing, zing, zingaat!"

As the beats intensified, Akash and Darsh jumped in beside Arav, and together.

He lifted his hand, gesturing her to come down, his expression playful yet longing.

Ritika hesitated for a second, looking at her mother for approval. Her mother chuckled softly and nodded. Excitement bubbled in her chest as she leaned down, placed a quick kiss on Tara’s cheek, and rushed from there, lifting her heavy bridal lehenga to avoid tripping. Her sisters and Richa followed closely behind, giggling.

The second she reached him, she didn’t think twice— she hugged him tightly.

Arav, caught off guard, stumbled a step back, his face flushing a deep red. The entire crowd erupted in cheers and hoots. Akash and Darsh whistled, and Arushi and Kanak clapped excitedly.

As he pulled back slightly, he looked at her—his bride, his dream, standing right in front of him. Dressed in the most beautiful red lehenga, adorned in bridal jewelry, she was glowing like a vision. His heart swelled with emotions, remembering the promise he made seven years ago—to marry her, to make her his forever. And now, here they were.

Just then, everyone pushed them forward to dance, breaking their little moment of staring into each other's eyes.

And the next lyrics played—

"Bhejoon mummy-daddy ko ghar tere leke mera rishta

Ho shagun mein kaaju, pista, choodi, kangan with guldasta"

Arav pointed at Ritika’s parents playfully, pretending to be a groom officially asking for her hand in marriage. Then, he grabbed imaginary "shagun" items—cashews, pistachios, bangles, and a flower bouquet—miming handing them to her.

Ritika burst into laughter, clapping her hands, before stepping forward to match his energy.

As the lyrics continued, she dramatically pretended to sip tea and eat biscuits, grinning widely.

"Chai-biscuit se munh meetha karke shaadi done ho jaaye

Na milega tere gharwaalon ko dulha itna sasta"

Arav smirked, winking at Ritika’s parents as if saying, "You won’t find a better and more affordable groom than me!"

The crowd laughed at his antics.

Then, Arav turned toward Ritika again, his eyes filled with intensity as he danced while mouthing the words—

"Baaqi tamaam rishte hata

Baaqi tamaam rishte hata, patli gali se unko kata

Aur saja ke mandap tere bagal mein, gori, mujhko bitha"

He lifted his arms dramatically, "throwing away" all past relationships and distractions.

Then, he twisted his wrist, acting like he was cutting off any unwanted suitors from Ritika’s life.

He turned in a swift circle, then knelt on one knee, gesturing to sit beside him in the mandap, mimicking a wedding moment.

Ritika’s heart skipped a beat. This was the same song where, seven years ago, he promised her marriage, and now, here he was, fulfilling that promise.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but before she could react, Arav jumped up, extending his hand toward her.

"De de haathon mein haath
ban jaaye baat, balma ye tera"

Without hesitation, she placed her hand in his, and the moment their fingers touched, the crowd exploded in cheers.

Arav twirled her gracefully, making her bridal lehenga swirl like a dream, and the song shifted into the high-energy beats of "Zingat."

"Naache, zing, zing, zing, zing, zing, zing, zingaat!"

Arav led the hookstep, stomping his foot twice before hopping on one leg, twisting his wrists in the air with excitement.

Ritika joined in, copying his moves, her laughter ringing in the air.And with that, they danced like crazy—laughing, twirling, just like they did, seven years back.

Akash and Darsh jumped in, forming a line beside Arav, shaking their shoulders and jumping in sync.

The entire group circled around them, clapping and jumping, hyping them up.

Some family members were cheering wildly, hooting, and clapping, but not everyone was happy. A few conservative relatives stood in a corner, whispering among themselves.

"Kaisi besharam ladki hai!" one woman sneered.

"She has no manners. Which bride dances at her own wedding like this?" another muttered.

"If this happened in our family, we would’ve sent the baraat back immediately!"

Ritika’s parents glanced toward the murmuring relatives and sighed, shaking their heads. They knew their daughter was bold, unapologetic, and full of life, and they wouldn’t have her any other way.

Tara stepped forward, holding a beautifully decorated thaal filled with rice, sindoor, and a small diya. The soft glow of the lamp flickered, casting a warm light on Arav’s face. Ritika giggled softly as the relatives escorted her inside, leaving the groom to his welcoming rituals.

Tara, standing tall and graceful, smiled at Arav as she moved the thaal in slow, circular motions, performing the aarti to ward off any evil eyes. The tinkling sound of her bangles blended with the soft chants being recited in the background.

Once the aarti was done, Tara’s eyes twinkled mischievously. She lifted her hand, reaching towards Arav’s face.

Understanding what was coming, Arav smirked and leaned down obediently.

With a playful chuckle, Tara firmly pulled his nose, a traditional gesture symbolizing that the groom is now a part of their family, and he must always respect and love their daughter.

As soon as Arav stepped inside, a wave of laughter and excitement filled the air. The bride’s side stood in formation, waiting with beautifully woven flower garlands. Siya, Divya, and Richa stood at the front, holding the garlands with teasing grins.

Behind them, Shashwat, Akash, Arushi, Darsh, and Kanak entered together, with Vihaan following.

Suddenly, Arushi dashed forward, dragging Kanak with her, her excitement overflowing. She barely waited a second before dramatically placing a hand on her heart and exclaiming,

"Bhaii, kya patakha lag rahe ho tum log!! Mai toh behosh ho jaungi!!"

She dramatically staggered, making everyone burst into laughter. Before anyone could react, she leaned forward and planted a loud kiss on Siya’s cheek.

Siya laughed, playfully pushing her away. "Drama queen!"

Before Arushi could continue her antics, Shashwat stepped in, grabbing her arm and pulling her back.

"Ho gaya na?" He raised a brow.

Arushi gasped, placing a hand on her chest in mock offense. "Ab Kabir kam tha jo aap bhi jalne lag gaye?!"

While everyone was engaged in laughter, Richa, standing at the side, was busy sprinkling water from durva grass as part of the ritual. It was meant to cleanse and bless the groom’s side, but—intentionally or unintentionally—she ended up sprinkling water on Akash not once, not twice, but three or four times.

"Arre!" Akash finally yelped, shaking the droplets off his face.

Before she could do it again, he quickly grabbed her hand, guiding the grass towards her instead, sprinkling water onto her face.

"Akash!" Richa gasped, her mouth slightly open as the cool droplets hit her skin. "Mera makeup kharab ho jayega!"

Akash instantly froze, his eyes widening in guilt. "Oh... sorry." He muttered, looking genuinely regretful.

Without another word, he pulled out his handkerchief and gently pressed it against her face, soaking up the moisture with the utmost care, making sure not to rub or smudge her makeup.

Richa blinked, slightly taken aback by the unexpected tenderness.

Just as she was about to thank him, Akash quickly glanced around, making sure no one was watching.

And before she could process it, he leaned in and placed a quick, soft kiss on her cheek.

Her eyes widened in shock, but before she could react, he smirked and bolted inside, leaving her standing there, flustered and speechless.

The bride’s side had successfully welcomed all the guests, but there was one person left—Shashwat.

He stepped forward towards Siya, his gaze locked onto hers with a teasing glint. With slow, deliberate steps, he leaned down, his mischievous smile widening as he looked at her expectantly.

Siya, who had been waiting for this moment, bit her lower lip, trying to suppress her own smile. She lifted the garland with delicate hands and gently placed it around his neck. The moment the fragrant flowers settled on his shoulders, he tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers.

There was something intense yet playful in the way he stared at her. Siya, however, refused to let herself get distracted.

With graceful hands, she picked up the tilak thaal, dipped her finger into the kumkum, and raised her hand towards his forehead.

But just as she was about to apply the tilak, Shashwat straightened up abruptly, moving just out of her reach.

Siya blinked in surprise and tried again, standing on her toes this time, stretching her arm as far as possible. But Shashwat was ready.

He smirked and lifted himself onto his own toes, keeping the distance intact. Siya shot him a sharp glare.

"Shashwat!" she hissed under her breath, trying not to make a scene in front of everyone.

He simply grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Siya narrowed her eyes, her patience thinning. Without a word, she set the thaal down beside her and—before Shashwat could even react—she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down forcefully.

His eyes widened in shock.

Before he could say anything, Siya swiftly pressed her finger against his forehead, applying the tilak.

A victorious smile spread across her lips as she stepped back.

Shashwat blinked, still processing what just happened. A soft warmth crept up his neck, his ears turning pink as a blush covered his face.

Siya, satisfied with her success, gave him a sweet, knowing smile.

"Welcome," she whispered softly, before turning around and walking away as if nothing had happened.

Shashwat stood frozen for a second, his heart thudding in his chest. Then, realizing where he was, he quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed.

A few of his cousins were smirking at him, having caught the entire interaction.

Arav stepped inside, making his way towards the place where the dwar puja was about to begin. The atmosphere was warm, filled with the light scent of incense, the soft murmurs of elders, and the playful whispers of the younger lot.

He settled in his designated spot, a composed smile on his lips. On the other side, Arushi took her seat among the others, her eyes scanning the gathering. That’s when she noticed Reyansh standing nearby, assisting with the rituals.

The pandit ji spoke, his deep voice resonating in the air. He asked for a particular item required for the puja.

Harsh, seated beside Arav, turned to his son. "Reyansh, pass that over," he instructed.

But Reyansh didn’t move.

Instead, his eyes had locked onto something—or rather, someone.

His gaze had landed on Arushi.

And that was it. He was gone.

His mouth slightly parted, his entire attention fixated on her.

Harsh called him again, his voice sharper this time.

"Reyansh!"

Nothing.

The youngsters watching the scene groaned, slapping their foreheads in disbelief.

Arushi, now fully aware of his dazed expression, muttered a curse under her breath.

Akash, unable to tolerate it anymore, grabbed a small flower from the puja plate and aimed it straight at Reyansh’s face.

The flower hit him square on the forehead, snapping him out of his daydream.

He blinked rapidly, clearing his throat as realization dawned upon him.

Harsh was glaring at him now, his brows furrowed in question.

Reyansh, avoiding his father’s gaze at all costs, quickly grabbed the item and handed it over.

The rituals continued smoothly, and soon, the moment came for a very important tradition.

The pandit ji looked at Harsh and announced, “Now, the bride’s father must wash the groom’s feet as a mark of respect and welcome.”

Harsh nodded in understanding and was about to proceed, but before he could, Arav reached forward and gently grasped his hand, stopping him.

Harsh looked at him in surprise. “Arav?”

Arav, his face respectful yet firm, shook his head.

“Papa, please… I can’t let you do this.”** His voice was steady, his sincerity evident in his eyes.**

Harsh frowned slightly. “But beta, this is a ritual, a tradition.”

Arav took a deep breath and spoke, his words carrying weight.

“I respect traditions, but I respect you more.” He looked into Harsh’s eyes. “You are a father figure to me, the man who raised Ritika, the man who built this beautiful family. I can’t let you touch my feet—it doesn’t feel right. I should be the one touching yours instead.”

Then, a soft, warm smile broke on Harsh’s face.

The wedding festivities were in full swing, laughter and the aroma of delicious food filling the air. Amidst all the chaos, Naman handed Darsh a few boxes, instructing him to place them in the designated room where the rest of the wedding items were being stored.

Darsh groaned dramatically, his stomach growling as he caught sight of everyone heading toward the food area.

“Mujhe bhookh lagi hai,” he muttered, dragging his feet with exaggerated sluggishness.

He barely paid attention as he reached the room, nudging the door open with his foot. The warm glow of the lights inside made him pause.

His brows furrowed. “Koi hai kya yahaan…?” His voice trailed off as his gaze landed on the lone figure inside.

Divya.

She was standing near a low table, her delicate hands submerged in a brass plate filled with sacred havan ingredients. Her slender fingers carefully mixed the offerings, the soft glow of the overhead light casting a serene aura around her. Her white lehenga clung to her form gracefully, the soft embroidery shimmering under the light. A few strands of her hair had come loose, framing her face, and Darsh found himself momentarily frozen.

She sensed his presence, her eyes meeting his for a brief second before she quickly looked back down at her task, pretending to be unaffected.

“Tu yahan kya kar raha hai?” she asked, her voice even, but her fingers slightly trembled as she continued mixing.

Darsh tilted his head, his lips curling into an amused smirk. He took a slow step forward, and then another, his gaze never leaving her face.

Divya clutched the thaal a little tighter, feeling his presence grow closer. Her breathing faltered slightly as he finally came to stand just inches away from her.

She looked up, ready to step back, but before she could move, he leaned in.

Her breath hitched.

“Tum…” she stuttered, unable to complete her sentence as his face moved dangerously close to hers.

Her fingers clenched around the brass plate, her heartbeat picking up speed. He leaned even further, his hand moving past her waist.

Then, she heard a soft chuckle.

Her eyes fluttered open in confusion, and she turned to see him standing against the table, hands casually tucked into his pockets, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

Darsh whistled casually, pretending not to notice the glare she shot his way. His smirk widened as he rocked back on his heels, clearly reveling in the moment.

Divya’s hands fumbled with the sacred havan ingredients, her fingers slipping slightly over the brass plate. The