The Dr Kaira Chapter. - Page 7

Originally posted by: A_Star39

Part 8 is out

Ruhi and dakshu are ❤️

I like the fact Kaira is a strong girl and not ready to be a dormant even in love 😘

Kaira seems to know how to draw a line

Ru and dakshu are cute

Glad that old ru is ok sarcastic sassy. It the one blackmaled and told old stories full of lies in ak diary

Waiting to see what a takedown she gives kavu

Waiting to see how Kai and ru team up 🙈

Do They atleast make anir own up and find his life

Looks like Kaira and Aryaan have thought of everything. Let's see if they can execute this plan and handle the curveballs that are sure to come. As always, a wonderful update ❤️

Originally posted by: A_Star39

Part 8: The Meeting

The Poddar House was a labyrinth of watchful eyes, even atdawn. Early mornings were Kaveri Poddar’s domain, a time for barking orders andsurveying her empire. For Aaryan Poddar, it was a prime time for evasion.

He moved through the sprawling house with the stealth of a commando. The faint aroma of ginger tea and parathas came from the kitchen, signaling Kaveri's imminent emergence.

Aaryan was dressed in his most generic gym clothes anon-descript grey t-shirt and track pants a perfect disguise for an early morning escape. He saw Abhira Bhabhi already bustling in the kitchen, humming to herself, oblivious. Armaan Bhai's snores, a familiar rumbling sound,vibrated faintly from his closed bedroom door.

He quickly scribbled a note on the kitchen whiteboard,knowing Abhira would see it first: "Gym, early session. Don't wake me,busy with 'maha fitness' today! - Aaryan." It was just enough of Abhira's own dramatic language to make it sound authentic.

He slipped out the back door, past the sleeping gardener,and into the crisp morning air. His car, a sleek, understated SUV (chosen specifically to avoid Kaveri's flashy tastes), was parked a block away, out of direct sight of the house.

Within minutes, Aaryan was on a quiet side road, the Poddar house receding in his rearview mirror. He pulled over next to a small,unassuming coffee shop, its shutters still down. In the back of his car, a garment bag held his true attire for the morning.

He quickly changed out of his gym clothes, swapping them fora tailored, crisp linen shirt in a muted sage green, perfectly paired with darktrousers and Italian loafers. His hair, usually styled casually, was smoothed back, giving him an air of quiet confidence and understated elegance.

He checked his reflection in the rearview mirror. Gone wasthe gym-bound "Aaryan," the younger, less imposing Poddar. In his place was the sharp, strategic partner Kaira knew, ready to face the formidable Kairav and Muskan Goenka. He took a deep breath, adjusted his cufflinks, and started the engine. The real negotiations were about to begin.

In her sleek, minimalist bedroom, Kaira woke with theprecise clarity of a CEO. There was no time for contemplation, only execution.She swiftly applied her makeup, choosing a palette that emphasizedprofessionalism and strength—a clear contrast to the emotional chaos of theprevious night.

She approached her closet, rejecting several fashionabledresses in favor of a tailored, cream-colored power outfit: a structured blazerand trousers that projected authority. Her final hurdle was her hair.Frustration flickered across her face as she momentarily wrestled with theadvanced technology of her Dyson hair tool, its efficiency momentarily clashingwith her own impatience. She needed every detail perfect for the 8 AM meeting.This wasn't a family chat; it was a contract negotiation, and she was dressingfor victory.

Downstairs, the atmosphere was infused with the scent ofsandalwood and incense. Kairav and Muskan were performing their daily morningaarti in their beautifully appointed home temple. Their devotion was a blend ofgenuine faith and a public reaffirmation of their traditional, culturedstanding.

Muskan was draped in a flowy, elegant saree, its rich silk moving gracefully as she circled the diya (lamp). Her hair was perfectlycoiled, her expression serene and poised—the picture of the perfect bahu andhostess.

Beside her, Kairav stood tall, his posture refined. He wasdressed in crisp white cotton paired with an elegant bundi (a traditionalNehru-style vest) in a subdued jewel tone. The outfit spoke of inherited wealthand quiet power.

As the final bell of the aarti chimed, their faces werecalm, the emotional hysteria of the previous night completely erased. Theyexchanged a look not of parental worry, but of synchronized, focused intent.The ritual was complete; the strategic meeting was next. They were ready to negotiate their daughter's future with the same precision they applied to their corporate empire.

Aaryan arrived at the Goenka villa exactly on time, theexterior of the house looking even more formidable in the clear morning light.He was instantly greeted by a silent butler who escorted him through the grand,hushed hallways—a stark contrast to the lively chaos of the Poddar home.

The butler opened the doors to Kairav Goenka’s high-class study, a room dominated by dark wood, leather, and framed awards that spokevolumes of corporate success.

The air was thick with tension, not of hatred, but of acold, financial appraisal.

Kairav (Placing a palm flat on the desk): "Goodmorning, Aaryan. We are past the emotional shock. Now, we deal in logistics and stability. What exactly is your plan? What is the complete roadmap for your separation from the Udaipur structure?"

Aaryan leaned forward, his demeanor now sharper than ever,making the proposal sound less like a marriage plan and more like a hostile corporate takeover disguised as an internal promotion.

Aaryan: "Mr. Goenka, the plan is not a messy exit; it’sa strategic restructuring. I am leveraging my father's—Manoj Poddar's position and my own capabilities to push for the formal establishment and leadership ofthe Poddar Law Firm, Mumbai Branch."

Kaira took the lead, emphasizing the mutual benefits and the complete severance from the Udaipur drama.

Kaira (Looking directly at Muskan): "The Mumbai Branch is the key. Aaryan is positioning this as a necessary expansion for the firm,one that requires his full, undivided attention and his immediate family'spresence."

Muskan (Eyes narrowing, sensing the true motive): "Andwho exactly constitutes your immediate family in this strategic relocation,Aaryan?"

Aaryan: "My mother, Manisha, my father, Manoj, and mysister, Kiara. They will all relocate to Mumbai. This move achieves a complete and permanent severance from the drama and chaos of household. "

Kairav tapped his pen, slightly impressed by the audacityand completeness of the plan.

Kairav: "A bold move. But what about Kaira? How does moving to Mumbai benefit my daughter professionally?"

Kaira: "That is the primary driver, Mr goenka. Mumbai is the medical hub of India. The move ensures my Dermatology Clinic gets maximumexposure and a clientele base that matches the Goenka standard. We establish alife of supreme professional stability and high social stature, completelyseparate from Udaipur."

Muskan finally offered a slow nod of approval, a flicker ofsatisfaction in her eyes. This wasn't just Kaira marrying; this was Kairastrategically acquiring a new, upgraded life, dismantling the Poddar structurein the process.

Muskan: "So, you use the firm's ambition to create a clean,permanent physical and professional barrier between your future and yourbrother's past. Aaryan, this plan is—"

Kairav (Finishing Muskan's thought): " Acceptable. Itremoves the instability and, crucially, ensures that their chaotic structurecannot follow Kaira."

The conversation had moved into the specifics of the legalframework, but Muskan still had one major concern regarding the entrenchedhierarchy of the Poddar matriarchs.

Muskan (Her voice dropping, laced with warning): "Thephysical distance is sound, Aaryan. But what about the mental distance? We sawthe dynamics at your home. Your grandmother, Kaveri Poddar, is a force, andyour Taiji, Vidya, has a particular bitterness about her. They will stilldemand obedience. They will try to dictate Kaira's decisions her clinic, herwork schedule, even her personal life. How do you ensure that Kaira, mydaughter, is not subjected to the commands of Vidya or Kaveri?"

Aaryan met Muskan's gaze without hesitation, understandingthat this was a test of his commitment to Kaira's independence.

Aaryan (Firmly): "Mrs. Goenka, there are two answers tothat. Firstly, the Mumbai branch and Kaira's clinic will be entirelyautonomous, financially and geographically. They will have zero operationalauthority over us. Secondly, and more importantly, my commitment is to Kaira'sprofessional identity. I can assure you, with my complete support, they willnot even think of trying to instruct Kaira."

He paused, ensuring his next words carried maximum impact,addressing the core of the Goenkas' anxiety the influence of Abhira.

Aaryan: "And finally, Mrs. Goenka, you need tounderstand one crucial thing: Kaira isn't Abhira. Kaira is highly educated,fully established, and professionally autonomous. She deals in facts, notfeelings. She won't introduce melodrama or be susceptible to the emotionalmanipulation that defines the Udaipur household. Kaira Goenka is not a Poddar bahu(daughter-in-law) who bows to pressure or inherits chaos. She is Dr. KairaGoenka, the head of her own professional empire."

Kairav looked from Aaryan to Kaira, who gave a small,confident nod, silently affirming Aaryan's statement. The parents recognizedthat Aaryan had not only anticipated their concerns but had successfullycontrasted their daughter's value against the perceived instability of theirniece.

Kaira stood on the expansive balcony of her room, gazing out at the distant lights of Udaipur . The meeting had been a success a cold,calculated victory but the sheer complexity of the life she was choosing weighed on her.

The sliding door opened quietly, and Muskan and Kairav entered. They didn't speak immediately, sensing the fragile mood of their daughter.

Muskan (Her voice soft, tinged with genuine fear): "It went well, Kaira. The strategy is sound. Aaryan is shrewd. But..."

Kairav walked to her side, his usual composure etched with visible anxiety.

Kairav: "But the strategy only covers the financial and geographical distance, beta. It doesn't cover the genetic instability. Muskan and I, we've been talking, thinking about Abhira's entire life story... and we're scared."

Muskan gently placed a hand on Kaira’s arm.

Muskan: "We are not naive, Kaira. We know what it meansto marry into that family. We saw how Armaan treated his wife, your own cousin,Abhira."

Kairav leaned against the railing, recounting the litany ofArmaan Poddar’s actions, the pattern of instability, abandonment, and controlthat terrified them.

Kairav: "Armaan Poddar. He built a relationship with Ruhi only to ask her to 'move on' when she married Rohit. He entered a deal marriage with Abhira, but when Rohit died, he swung back to Ruhi, only to abandon her atthe mandap publicly. This is not loyalty; this is chaos."

Muskan (Voice dropping in disgust): "Then the years with Abhira... the pattern is horrific. He married her, then gave her the silenttreatment for three months because his mother, Vidya, disapproved. He pressureda 23-year-old lawyer to become pregnant at the start of her career. And when she suffered the tragedy of a stillborn, what did he do? He chose to hide thetruth and let her live a lie, all because he couldn't handle her grief. Hedecided her career was over and slapped a resignation letter on her desk."

Kairav shook his head slowly, the shame of the Poddar name palpable.

Kairav: "He diverts from his 'big ethics' to blame Abhir in court the brother whose paralysis was caused by Vidya just to protecthis family. Then, when Abhira tries to pursue justice, he destroys her career with a false bribe allegation. Later, when she struggles with motherhood partlydue to his own actions, he humiliates her, calls her incapable, and insults herby throwing a vase at a mirror. He decides he is the only one capable ofraising Maira (Pookie) and effectively kidnaps his own daughter for seven years,hiding her existence from the world."

Muskan gripped Kaira's hand tighter, the fear in her eyesprofound.

Muskan: “Kaira,I cannot handle you getting hurt in any way. Abhira’sdoormat mentality even landed her in jail. Are you sure about Aaryan?”

Kaira turned her gaze from the distant lights back to herworried parents, her expression shifting from thoughtfulness to sharp, almostoffended resolve.

Kaira (Her voice dangerously calm, laced with disbelief):"Papa? Mumma? Are you seriously underestimating me right now?"

She stepped away from the railing, meeting their gaze withunwavering intensity.

Kaira: "After all the strategies I’ve executed theyears of secrecy, the planning for the Mumbai clinic, the audacity to useAaryan’s own family against him you think I will fold the moment Vidya Poddar raises an eyebrow or Kaveri Poddar issues a command? You think I am somefragile piece of glassware they can shatter with a stern look?"

A slow, chilling smile touched her lips, a clear indicationthat the Goenka ruthlessness was strong in her.

Kaira: "I am not Abhira. I am not going to be a victim,and I am certainly not going to be a martyr. My love for Aaryan is genuine, butmy self-preservation is absolute. I am a Goenka. If they try to exert control,if they try to trouble me even for a bit a single taunt, a single demand aboutmy clinic, a single attempt to undermine my life in Mumbai I will retaliate. Ihave the leverage, I have the contract, and I have the financial separation. Iwill use the law and I will use their own social standing against them."

She concluded with a fierce confidence that brooked noargument.

Kaira: "I will torture the Poddars to hell if they tryto disrupt my life. They will regret the day they mistook me for a Bichari bahu.Trust me, Mumma. I have this."

Kairav and Muskan could only stare, realizing their daughterwasn't just planning a marriage; she was planning a reign. Her final assurancewas not one of peace, but of guaranteed, devastating warfare should the Poddarsstep out of line.

The warm, dry air of Udaipur hit Ruhi and Daksh as theystepped out of the private lounge area of the airport. Their travel experience,curated for absolute comfort, contrasted sharply with the loud, emotionalreception waiting for them.

Armaan and Abhira stood waiting near the arrivals barrier,armed with plastic smiles and a sense of familial duty. Armaan wore a look ofstrained pleasantness, while Abhira was clearly prepared to embrace her role asthe welcoming Taiji.

Daksh immediately ran to Abhira, who scooped him up in atight, dramatic hug.

Daksh (Excitedly): "Abhira Masi! Did you bring the panicke pakode? Mamma said you make the best ones!"

Abhira (Laughing loudly): "Of course, my little bhanja!You've arrived! This is maha happy news! Now, let me see your mother!"

Ruhi walked over, her posture impeccably straight. She gaveAbhira a genuinely warm, cousinly embrace, which lasted a touch too long to bepolite.

Ruhi (Softly): "It’s good to see you, Abhira. You lookwell."

She then turned to Armaan, who stepped forward, offering aprofessional hand.

Armaan (Smiling tightly): "Ruhi. Welcome home. We’reglad you and Daksh are here. It’s been too long."

Ruhi met his gaze, and the warmth instantly vanished. Herexpression became glacial—the cold shoulder was absolute. She bypassed his handentirely, nodding curtly towards his chest.

Ruhi: "Armaan. Yes. Thank you."

She immediately signaled to the porter managing her designerluggage.

Ruhi (To the porter): "The Goenka Villa, please. We areexpected there."

Abhira stepped forward, her sense of duty immediatelykicking in, determined to uphold the family tradition of hosting.

Abhira (Placing a firm, possessive hand on Ruhi's arm):"Ruhi, wait! What are you saying? You can’t go to the Goenka Villa! We areyour family! You, Daksh, Maira, Armaan we are the Poddars! Dadisa and Maa andPapa are waiting. You are coming straight to the Poddar House. It’s your home,Di, it's your rightful place!"

Armaan silently nodded his agreement, expecting Ruhi tocomply with the family command.

Ruhi gently, but firmly, removed Abhira's hand. Her toneremained calm, but beneath the surface, it was steel.

Ruhi (Her eyes hardening, reminding Abhira of theirhierarchy): "Abhira, listen to me carefully. I am Ruhi Di, your eldersister, and your elder cousin. I just spent eight hours flying from Tokyo. Idon't need a lecture on family duty, and I certainly don't need the maha chaosof the Poddar House right now."

Ruhi leaned in, her voice dropping to an intimidatingwhisper.

Ruhi: " You will take us to the Goenka Villa now. Or Iwill simply call Muski mami and have her send a driver. Your choice."

Abhira’s face flushed, momentarily stunned by the authorityin Ruhi’s voice. The defence crumbled immediately under the power of her eldersister's command.

Abhira (Defeated, sighing): "Fine, Ruhi Di. I'll tellthe driver. But this is going to give Dadisa a Maha Jhatka!"

Ruhi simply smiled, coolly regaining control of thesituation.

Armaan and Abhira returned to the Poddar house, the polishedtiles and opulent furniture seeming to mock their failure. The air in thehouse, usually buzzing with activity, felt heavy with anticipation and quietfury.

Kaveri Poddar was seated in the living room, surrounded byher sons and daughters-in-law. She didn't look up, but her voice, sharp andlaced with annoyance, cut through the silence the moment they walked in.

Kaveri (Without looking up): "You are late. And whereis my granddaughter-in-law, Ruhi, and my great-grandson, Daksh? I trust youbrought them straight here, as is the tradition?"

Armaan sighed, running a hand over his face, unable to maskhis humiliation.

Armaan: "Bade Papa, she refused. She wouldn't evenaccept my handshake. She insisted on going straight to the Goenka Villa. Shesaid she needed a 'secure, stable base of operations' and didn't want thePoddar 'chaos.'"

A collective gasp went around the room.

Vidya Poddar (The Angry Mother/Grandmother): Vidya's angerwas immediate and piercing, driven by a deep sense of insult to her status asDaksh's paternal grandmother.

Vidya (Leaping to her feet, her voice trembling with rage):"Refused? She went to the Goenka Villa? My bahu rejected her own family,her own son's Dadi, for those arrogant outsiders? Daksh is Rohit’s son! Heshould be in this house, sleeping in his father’s room! This is the height ofdisrespect! She has shown us exactly where her loyalties lie, Maa sa !"

Kaveri Poddar (The Annoyed Matriarch): Kaveri remainedseated but her eyes flashed, seeing the event as a direct challenge to thePoddar rutba.

Kaveri: "This is not about loyalty, Vidya; this isabout manners. We are not some small-time family whose invitations can bedismissed. Ruhi may be a Goenka, but she married into this house! She hasinsulted the entire family’s name by running straight to her maternal home,making it look like we are incapable of hosting our own kin!"

Armaan watched the internal chaos explode, his humiliationmorphing into a bitter conviction. Ruhi had fired the opening shot, and theGoenkas had declared war long before the cultural centre doors opened.

The tension melted away the moment the car pulled up to theserene Goenka Villa. The atmosphere inside was one of quiet, genuine warmth, astark contrast to the emotional battlefield of the Poddar house.

Kairav and Muskan were waiting in the foyer. They moved pastthe elegant front hall, instantly shedding their corporate armor to embracetheir kin.

Muskan (Her voice thick with emotion, hugging Ruhi tightly):"Ruhi! My sweet child! We were so worried about that long flight. Welcomehome, beta."

Kairav (His face softening into a rare, genuine smile,hugging Ruhi): "Welcome back, Ruhi beta. Thank you for choosing to comestraight here. It means a great deal."

Daksh immediately ran to Kairav, who laughed and scooped uphis grand-nephew.

Daksh: "Nana! Nani! Mom said we have the best pillowshere and no one shouts the word 'maha'!"

Muskan chuckled, taking Daksh into her own arms.

Muskan: "No shouting, darling. Only elegance and quiet.We're thrilled you're here." She held Ruhi's hands, her expression turningserious for a moment. "It’s good you didn't go to the Poddar house. Weheard the message was loud and clear. They must be furious."

Ruhi (Smiling, the tension finally easing from hershoulders): "They are beyond furious, Mamma. They are scrambling. But I amnot here for tea and pakode at their house; I am here for Kaira. Where is thechief strategist?"

Kairav (Gesturing toward the stairs): "She's upstairs,pretending to review her clinic blueprints. But she’s really just waiting forher strongest ally to arrive. Come, let's get you settled. The entire Goenkafamily is converging, Ruhi. We are relying on your insight. The war is officiallyon."

Kairav put a hand on Ruhi's shoulder, ushering her towardthe stairs. The welcome wasn't just familial; it was the quiet, confidentgreeting of one general to another, establishing their united front against theimpending chaos of the Poddar family.

Ruhi found Kaira seated at a sleek, ergonomic desk, amassive blueprint of her planned Mumbai dermatology clinic spread out beforeher. Kaira was holding a stylus, frowning in deep concentration, but Ruhi knewher better.

Ruhi leaned silently against the doorframe, crossing herarms, and watched Kaira for a moment.

Ruhi (Suddenly, with a theatrical sigh): "Aah, theintense concentration. Is this about the new laser technology, or are you justpretending to look busy so your parents don't realize you’re in a maha panicabout marrying a Poddar?"

Kaira startled, dropping her stylus, then looked up, herface breaking into a huge, genuine grin.

Kaira (Jumping up and rushing to hug Ruhi): "Di! You'rehere! You know, for the Head of Goenka Diamonds Japan, you have terribleboundary management."

Ruhi (Hugging her tightly): "And for a strategicgenius, you have terrible taste in men's families. But listen, I had to comestraight up. My flight was long, but my desire to mock you was stronger."

Ruhi sat on the edge of the desk, swinging one perfect foot.

Ruhi: "Seriously, Kaira? The safe, quiet, youngerbrother? The one who never causes a scene? I thought you’d choose someone whoflew a jet to woo you, not someone who’s practically silent in a room full ofchaos. It’s so... responsible."

Kaira (Rolling her eyes, but smiling): "Oh, you are oneto talk, Mrs. Ruhi Birla Poddar. You married the kind, stable one, Rohit, rightafter the chaotic one, Armaan, tried to wreck your life! I just skipped thedisaster part. And Aaryan is only responsible because he’s terrified of becominghis brother."

Ruhi (Waving a dismissive hand): "Exactly! Which makeshim perfect for us Goenkas. But the way he was talking about you to Muskan Mamiabout your 'professional autonomy' and 'superior stature'I swear, he soundedless like a fiancé and more like your incredibly competent, well-vetted COO (ChiefOperating Officer)."

Kaira laughed, the tension from the morning's strategysession finally dissolving.

Kaira: "That’s the point, Di. I need a COO, not aliability. But tell me, you've seen the chaos up close. What's the real mood?And what about Armaan? Did he look suitably miserable at the airport?"

Ruhi smirked, leaning closer to share the airport gossip,her eyes now glittering with strategic focus. The moment of levity was over;the planning had begun.

Kiara is on fire 🔥

I love how goenkas r insulting armoron at every chance they get....

Don't forget to tag me for next update

Part 9:The opening

The inner sanctum of the Goenka Villa’s master dressing wing had been meticulously transformed, not into a dressing room, but into the hushed, high-stakes backstage of a private runway show. The air was thick with the faint, expensive scent of Oud Wood by Tom Ford and the gentle whir of professional diffusers. Stylists, makeup artists, and hair architects moved with silent, focused precision, tending to the family as if preparing royalty for a coronation.

Muskan Goenka, standing before a mirrored console, was the epitome of inherited grace fused with modern allure. Her skin possessed the flawless patina of carefully preserved wealth. She was draped in a hand-dyedSabyasachi sapphire silk saree, the pallu flowing with liquid elegance. Theblouse, a sleeveless, deep-cut whisper of matching silk, highlighted her toned physique. Around her throat, a vintage Cartier diamond riviere glittered with cool fire, declaring a status untouchable by mere currency.

Kairav (His voice a low, approving timbre): "Muskan,you are magnificent. Tom Ford designed this charcoal grey bandhgala on your request.Thanks love."

In the adjacent area, Kaira was receiving the final touches.Her demeanor was clinical, focused entirely on the outcome. Her attire was a deliberate contradiction: a Manish Malhotra emerald green lehenga,structured like architecture, the traditional embroidery pared down to sharp,geometric lines. Her hair was pulled into a severe, powerful chignon,emphasizing the Hermès diamond studs she wore. She was armed, formidable, and entirely focused on the battlefield ahead.

Ruhi, the strategic weapon flown in from Tokyo, moved with the unhurried confidence of a global executive. She chose a breathtaking Tarun Tahilliani fusion gown a deep cranberry shade that flowed in structured pleats,a perfect visual metaphor for the Goenka blend of heritage and global reach.Around her wrist, the subtle, floral brilliance of a Van Cleef bracelet was theonly softness allowed.

Even nine-year-old Daksh was part of the sartorial defense.He stood patiently, enduring a final adjustment from his dresser. He wore anexquisitely tailored, cute navy-blue suit by Ralph Lauren, complete with aperfectly tied bow tie and crisp white shirt. The suit managed to look bothformal and entirely charming, a perfect miniature of his adult family members'elegance.

Daksh (Muttering to Ruhi, fidgeting): "Mumma, this istaking long. I think this jacket is too stiff for a gamer."

Ruhi (Smiling, adjusting his bow tie): "Patience, my dakshu maharaj. Today, we are not just attending an opening; we are presenting a flawless front. Every detail is strategy."

With a final check in the mirrors, the Goenka family,polished, powerful, and perfectly poised in their couture armor, descended thestaircase. They were ready to deliver their subtle, calculated message at theprestigious Naira Goenka Cultural Centre.

The Poddar Mansion was a hive of frantic, competitive energy. The house, overflowing with inherited wealth, felt like a pressurecooker as the family prepared for the evening.

Kaveri Poddar was seated regally, enduring the adjustment of her heavy, traditional maroon silk patola saree and antique gold jewelry, a fortune in tradition designed to project unchallengeable authority.Vidya, in her bright, slightly loud rani pink georgette, stacked diamond bangles, her eyes darting constantly, looking for flaws in the others.

Vidya (To herself, adjusting her heavy jhumkas):"Ruhi won't come here, and Muskan ji thinks she’s a queen. We shall see whose wealth shines brighter tonight."

Manisha, shimmering in gold and orange silk, fretted openly about the social stakes to her husband, Manoj, who simply adjusted his conservative suit and maintained a thoughtful silence.

Armaan, stiff and resentful in his sharp black suit, was shepherding his daughter, Maira. Maira (Pookie), dressed in a lace-trimmed gown that was perhaps too formal for her age, observed the high tension with a child's curious solemnity.

Abhira was dressing with strained focus, the deep red of her saree reflecting her internal "anger ka fever" over the insult of armaan, momentarily distracted by the family feud.

Aaryan Poddar looked immaculate in his charcoal grey suit,but his internal state was a storm of nerves. He was the only one in the room harboring the explosive secret, and the weight of the impending betrayal showed in the tightness of his shoulders. He kept his phone tucked low, sending a final, coded message to Kaira about his arrival time.

Aaryan (Muttering to himself): "Just a few more hours,and the die is cast. No one here suspects a thing..."

His sister, Kiara, dressed in an elegant silver lehenga,stood nearby,thinking about Abhir

Tanya Raizada Bansal, Krish’s wife, provided a bizarre,high-energy contrast to the surrounding gloom. She was bubbling with genuineexcitement to see her cousins, completely oblivious to the war footing.

Tanya (Bouncing slightly, adjusting her dramatic, modern dress): "This is going to be so much fun! I need to know all the Tokyo gossip from Ruhi, and Kaira hasn't seen my new diamond earrings! I just hope Krish doesn't sulk the entire time."

Krish Bansal, Tanya's husband and Kajal's son, was thepicture of resigned boredom. He stood by the main staircase, phone in hand,looking utterly disinterested in the entire affair. He was impeccably dressed,but his mind was clearly miles away from the social climbing.

Krish (To himself, scrolling his phone): "Another Poddar family event where the highlight is watching my mother and Vidya mami fight over who looks richer. Kill me now."

Kajal Poddar Bansal, Krish's mother, watched the scene witha practical eye. She was dressed elegantly but focused her energy on protectingher daughter-in-law from Vidya’s inevitable barbs.

Kajal (Guiding Tanya slightly away from Vidya): "Tanya,dear, let's wait by the door. And Krish, try to look marginally less annoyedfor your grandmother's sake. The Goenkas will be judging our entire clantonight."

The Poddars finally gathered in the foyer a dazzling displayof competitive wealth, strained smiles, and tightly held secrets ready todescend upon the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre, completely unaware that one oftheir own was about to detonate a strategic bomb.

The grand entrance to the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre wasawash in the blinding white light of a hundred camera flashes. A long, plushred carpet stretched from the imposing archway to the main doors, flanked byvelvet ropes and a buzzing throng of reporters, paparazzi, and eager onlookers.The air thrummed with the excitement of a high-profile event, graced bydignitaries, Rajasthan’s Chief Minister, prominent billionaires, leadingdoctors, influential artists, and even a smattering of movie stars.

The Poddar convoy pulled up first, their luxury sedans atestament to their wealth. Kaveri Poddar, in her formidable maroon silk, led the charge, followed by a glittering Vidya and a flustered Manisha. Armaan,Abhira, and the rest of the family trailed behind, ready to make their grandsocial statement.

As they stepped out, poised to stride onto the red carpet, aline of uniformed security guards—all under the Goenka payroll stepped forward.

Guard (Politely, but with unyielding authority):"Poddar family, if you please, could you hold back for a moment? The hosts are just arriving. We need to clear the carpet."

The instruction, delivered in front of the hungry press, wasa calculated public slight. Kaveri’s jaw tightened. Vidya’s smile froze.Armaan’s face flushed crimson. They were being made to wait—publicly—for theGoenkas.

Just then, a fleet of sleek, black Mercedes Maybachs glidedto a stop. A hushed silence fell over the crowd as the Goenka family begantheir entrance.

First to emerge were Kairav and Muskan Goenka. Kairav, inhis Tom Ford bandhgala, offered a regal nod to the cameras. But it wasMuskan who stole the show. Draped in her Sabyasachi sapphire saree, thesleeveless blouse accentuating her flawless form, she looked breathtakinglysexy and utterly untouchable. She moved with the poise of a queen, her Cartierdiamonds catching every flash, eliciting gasps and a flurry of frenzied clicks.They weren't just parents; they were icons of power and grace.

With one arm linked through Kairav's, she turned slightly,her profile breathtaking. Her eyes, however, subtly drifted past the cameras,past the cheering crowd, and landed directly on the clustered Poddar family,still held back by security.

A snobby, dismissive expression almost imperceptible to the cameras, but glaringly obvious to the Poddars flashed across her perfect features. It was a look that communicated utter disdain, a cold, silent reminder of their inferior status, held captive behind the velvet ropes. It lasted only a fraction of a second, her smile instantly snapping back into place for the cameras, but the message was delivered with brutal clarity. The gesture was so perfectly executed that only the Poddars, specifically Kaveri and Vidya, felt the full, icy force of it.

From behind the ropes, Kaveri’s eyes narrowed into slits ofpure, unadulterated fury. Vidya visibly flinched, her own pride momentarily shattered. Muskan had not just ignored them; she had actively, gracefully, and publicly put them in their place.

Next came Ruhi and Daksh. Ruhi, in her cranberry gown,radiated sophisticated cool, a true global elite. Beside her, nine-year-oldDaksh, utterly adorable in his custom suit, waved shyly at the cameras, meltinghearts instantly.

From behind the velvet ropes, Kaveri, Vidya, and ManishaPoddar watched, their jaws slack. The sight of Daksh, Rohit's son, lookingevery inch a Goenka prince, hit them with a wave of mixed awe and deep-seatedannoyance. Vidya’s face was a mask of furious, grudging admiration. EvenKaveri's formidable gaze held a flicker of surprise at their sheer, undeniablepresence.

Finally, the last car door opened, and Dr. Kaira Goenka madeher entrance. Dressed in the exquisite Manish Malhotra emerald green lehenga,her hair sculpted, her diamonds gleaming, she stepped onto the carpet with aneffortless aura of dazzling beauty and absolute confidence. Every head turned.The cameras went into overdrive. She wasn't just beautiful; she was a force ofnature, a vision of polished, intellectual allure.

Hidden within the Poddar group, Aaryan Poddar watched Kaira.His composure, usually so carefully maintained, slipped. A small, almostimperceptible smile touched his lips, a mixture of pride, awe, and a hint ofalmost giddiness. He saw her, not just as his fiancée, but as the dazzlingfuture he had meticulously planned. His cute reaction was a stark contrast tothe boiling resentment around him.

The grand auditorium of the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre wasless a hall and more a hushed, cavernous sanctuary, dedicated to the worship ofhigh art and high status.

The ceiling soared to an immense height, a vast dome ofpolished mahogany inlaid with shimmering, intricate bronze filigree. Suspendedfrom the very apex of this dome was a breathtaking custom-designed centerpiece:a monumental crystal and bronze chandelier, sculpted into the form of anabstract, inverted lotus. It cascaded thousands of facets of light onto thehall below, demanding all attention and symbolizing the purity of the art itwas built to house.

Below, the space was structured for maximum impact: Tiered seating swept dramatically toward the stage, while two colossal, cantilevered balconies jutted out gracefully, allowing guests a panoramic view of the entire scene.

The seating across all levels was upholstered in a custom-dyed, deep sapphire velvet that absorbed the light, giving the room a jewel-box quality. The walls were paneled entirely in exotic, oiled South Indian teak, painstakingly sculpted to optimize the sound.

Every detail from the weight of the imported Portuguese marble underfoot to the soft, golden light filtering through discrete alcoves declared the unparalleled wealth of the Goenkas.

Hundreds of dignitaries, draped in couture and diamonds,took their seats under the sweeping curves of the high ceiling. The lightingwas subtly theatrical, focusing attention entirely on the central stage.

The Poddars and Bansals were ushered to their reserved,prominent row. The moment the spotlight dimmed, the internal shock resurfaced.Kaveri Poddar sat ramrod straight, her expression carved from stone, unwillingto show her fury at the public slight. Vidya, next to her, vibrated withcontained resentment.

Abhira, catching her breath, felt the cold air pressingagainst her. It was a stark contrast to the stifling, often emotionally heatedenvironment of the Poddar house. The coolness here was the very essence ofGoenka power: untouchable, flawless, and utterly unforgiving. The internalshock from the red carpet was amplified by the realization that they were nowsitting in a Goenka temple, where the rules of engagement were entirelynon-Poddar.

The atmosphere turned reverent as the program commenced.Kairav and Muskan Goenka gracefully ascended the stage. Kairav lookedcommanding in his bandhgala, while Muskan’s sapphire silk caught thestage lights, embodying the quiet, absolute authority of the hosts.

Kairav's Opening Address

Kairav began his address, his voice warm and resonant,shifting seamlessly from corporate authority to deep personal emotion.

Kairav Goenka: "Friends, esteemed guests, welcome to the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre. This evening, we are not just opening abuilding. We are fulfilling a dream the dream of a little girl who grew up tobe a phenomenal woman, my mother, Naira Singhania Goenka."

His voice softened, drawing the audience in.

Kairav: " Maa was a dancer, an artist, a life force. She taught us that legacy is not measured in balance sheets, but in thebeauty you leave behind. This Centre, from its grand Naira Auditorium to thevery last practice room, is built to ensure that beauty and art flourish in Udaipur, in her memory."

He paused, a flicker of pride in his eyes.

Kairav: "This project, built in collaboration with thepeople of Rajasthan, is our family's promise to foster the arts, just as myfather Mr Kartik Goenka envisioned. Thank you for celebrating this deeplypersonal moment with us."

The applause was thunderous and heartfelt.

As Kairav and Muskan stepped aside, the Emcee returned, hisvoice booming with importance.

Emcee: "And now, to honor the Goenka family’s enduringcommitment to service and legacy, we invite the key pillars of this projectonto the stage. Please welcome the Hon’ble Chief Minister of Rajasthan, Smt.Meenakshi Rathore!"

The CM, a woman of sharp political elegance, took her place.

Emcee: "Joining her, we invite Ruhi Birla,Abhira Sharmaand Abhir Sharma! And representing the dedication of the next generation, weinvite Dr Kaira Goenka!"

The names echoed through the hall. Ruhi, Abhir, and Abhirawalked onto the stage, their presence a powerful declaration of the family’sunity and influence.

In the Poddar row, Vidya inhaled sharply, her facecontorting in undisguised fury.

Vidya (Hissing to Kaveri): "Abhira is up there? Abhir?And Ruhi? But not Armaan? The son-in-law? The damaad of this family?They have deliberately insulted him! They are treating Armaan like a secondaryguest! This is unbearable arrogance!"

Kaveri simply closed her eyes briefly, the public slightfueling her growing resolve.

Emcee: "And finally, we have one more surprise guest."

He paused dramatically, the stage lights shifting, bathingthe empty spot beside the CM in anticipation.

Emcee: "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome..."

The auditorium held its breath, and the Poddar familytensed, dreading who the Goenkas had chosen to place in the spotlight next.

Part 9 is out!

Originally posted by: A_Star39

Part 9:The opening

The inner sanctum of the Goenka Villa’s master dressing wing had been meticulously transformed, not into a dressing room, but into the hushed, high-stakes backstage of a private runway show. The air was thick with the faint, expensive scent of Oud Wood by Tom Ford and the gentle whir of professional diffusers. Stylists, makeup artists, and hair architects moved with silent, focused precision, tending to the family as if preparing royalty for a coronation.

Muskan Goenka, standing before a mirrored console, was the epitome of inherited grace fused with modern allure. Her skin possessed the flawless patina of carefully preserved wealth. She was draped in a hand-dyedSabyasachi sapphire silk saree, the pallu flowing with liquid elegance. Theblouse, a sleeveless, deep-cut whisper of matching silk, highlighted her toned physique. Around her throat, a vintage Cartier diamond riviere glittered with cool fire, declaring a status untouchable by mere currency.

Kairav (His voice a low, approving timbre): "Muskan,you are magnificent. Tom Ford designed this charcoal grey bandhgala on your request.Thanks love."

In the adjacent area, Kaira was receiving the final touches.Her demeanor was clinical, focused entirely on the outcome. Her attire was a deliberate contradiction: a Manish Malhotra emerald green lehenga,structured like architecture, the traditional embroidery pared down to sharp,geometric lines. Her hair was pulled into a severe, powerful chignon,emphasizing the Hermès diamond studs she wore. She was armed, formidable, and entirely focused on the battlefield ahead.

Ruhi, the strategic weapon flown in from Tokyo, moved with the unhurried confidence of a global executive. She chose a breathtaking Tarun Tahilliani fusion gown a deep cranberry shade that flowed in structured pleats,a perfect visual metaphor for the Goenka blend of heritage and global reach.Around her wrist, the subtle, floral brilliance of a Van Cleef bracelet was theonly softness allowed.

Even nine-year-old Daksh was part of the sartorial defense.He stood patiently, enduring a final adjustment from his dresser. He wore anexquisitely tailored, cute navy-blue suit by Ralph Lauren, complete with aperfectly tied bow tie and crisp white shirt. The suit managed to look bothformal and entirely charming, a perfect miniature of his adult family members'elegance.

Daksh (Muttering to Ruhi, fidgeting): "Mumma, this istaking long. I think this jacket is too stiff for a gamer."

Ruhi (Smiling, adjusting his bow tie): "Patience, my dakshu maharaj. Today, we are not just attending an opening; we are presenting a flawless front. Every detail is strategy."

With a final check in the mirrors, the Goenka family,polished, powerful, and perfectly poised in their couture armor, descended thestaircase. They were ready to deliver their subtle, calculated message at theprestigious Naira Goenka Cultural Centre.

The Poddar Mansion was a hive of frantic, competitive energy. The house, overflowing with inherited wealth, felt like a pressurecooker as the family prepared for the evening.

Kaveri Poddar was seated regally, enduring the adjustment of her heavy, traditional maroon silk patola saree and antique gold jewelry, a fortune in tradition designed to project unchallengeable authority.Vidya, in her bright, slightly loud rani pink georgette, stacked diamond bangles, her eyes darting constantly, looking for flaws in the others.

Vidya (To herself, adjusting her heavy jhumkas):"Ruhi won't come here, and Muskan ji thinks she’s a queen. We shall see whose wealth shines brighter tonight."

Manisha, shimmering in gold and orange silk, fretted openly about the social stakes to her husband, Manoj, who simply adjusted his conservative suit and maintained a thoughtful silence.

Armaan, stiff and resentful in his sharp black suit, was shepherding his daughter, Maira. Maira (Pookie), dressed in a lace-trimmed gown that was perhaps too formal for her age, observed the high tension with a child's curious solemnity.

Abhira was dressing with strained focus, the deep red of her saree reflecting her internal "anger ka fever" over the insult of armaan, momentarily distracted by the family feud.

Aaryan Poddar looked immaculate in his charcoal grey suit,but his internal state was a storm of nerves. He was the only one in the room harboring the explosive secret, and the weight of the impending betrayal showed in the tightness of his shoulders. He kept his phone tucked low, sending a final, coded message to Kaira about his arrival time.

Aaryan (Muttering to himself): "Just a few more hours,and the die is cast. No one here suspects a thing..."

His sister, Kiara, dressed in an elegant silver lehenga,stood nearby,thinking about Abhir

Tanya Raizada Bansal, Krish’s wife, provided a bizarre,high-energy contrast to the surrounding gloom. She was bubbling with genuineexcitement to see her cousins, completely oblivious to the war footing.

Tanya (Bouncing slightly, adjusting her dramatic, modern dress): "This is going to be so much fun! I need to know all the Tokyo gossip from Ruhi, and Kaira hasn't seen my new diamond earrings! I just hope Krish doesn't sulk the entire time."

Krish Bansal, Tanya's husband and Kajal's son, was thepicture of resigned boredom. He stood by the main staircase, phone in hand,looking utterly disinterested in the entire affair. He was impeccably dressed,but his mind was clearly miles away from the social climbing.

Krish (To himself, scrolling his phone): "Another Poddar family event where the highlight is watching my mother and Vidya mami fight over who looks richer. Kill me now."

Kajal Poddar Bansal, Krish's mother, watched the scene witha practical eye. She was dressed elegantly but focused her energy on protectingher daughter-in-law from Vidya’s inevitable barbs.

Kajal (Guiding Tanya slightly away from Vidya): "Tanya,dear, let's wait by the door. And Krish, try to look marginally less annoyedfor your grandmother's sake. The Goenkas will be judging our entire clantonight."

The Poddars finally gathered in the foyer a dazzling displayof competitive wealth, strained smiles, and tightly held secrets ready todescend upon the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre, completely unaware that one oftheir own was about to detonate a strategic bomb.

The grand entrance to the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre wasawash in the blinding white light of a hundred camera flashes. A long, plushred carpet stretched from the imposing archway to the main doors, flanked byvelvet ropes and a buzzing throng of reporters, paparazzi, and eager onlookers.The air thrummed with the excitement of a high-profile event, graced bydignitaries, Rajasthan’s Chief Minister, prominent billionaires, leadingdoctors, influential artists, and even a smattering of movie stars.

The Poddar convoy pulled up first, their luxury sedans atestament to their wealth. Kaveri Poddar, in her formidable maroon silk, led the charge, followed by a glittering Vidya and a flustered Manisha. Armaan,Abhira, and the rest of the family trailed behind, ready to make their grandsocial statement.

As they stepped out, poised to stride onto the red carpet, aline of uniformed security guards—all under the Goenka payroll stepped forward.

Guard (Politely, but with unyielding authority):"Poddar family, if you please, could you hold back for a moment? The hosts are just arriving. We need to clear the carpet."

The instruction, delivered in front of the hungry press, wasa calculated public slight. Kaveri’s jaw tightened. Vidya’s smile froze.Armaan’s face flushed crimson. They were being made to wait—publicly—for theGoenkas.

Just then, a fleet of sleek, black Mercedes Maybachs glidedto a stop. A hushed silence fell over the crowd as the Goenka family begantheir entrance.

First to emerge were Kairav and Muskan Goenka. Kairav, inhis Tom Ford bandhgala, offered a regal nod to the cameras. But it wasMuskan who stole the show. Draped in her Sabyasachi sapphire saree, thesleeveless blouse accentuating her flawless form, she looked breathtakinglysexy and utterly untouchable. She moved with the poise of a queen, her Cartierdiamonds catching every flash, eliciting gasps and a flurry of frenzied clicks.They weren't just parents; they were icons of power and grace.

With one arm linked through Kairav's, she turned slightly,her profile breathtaking. Her eyes, however, subtly drifted past the cameras,past the cheering crowd, and landed directly on the clustered Poddar family,still held back by security.

A snobby, dismissive expression almost imperceptible to the cameras, but glaringly obvious to the Poddars flashed across her perfect features. It was a look that communicated utter disdain, a cold, silent reminder of their inferior status, held captive behind the velvet ropes. It lasted only a fraction of a second, her smile instantly snapping back into place for the cameras, but the message was delivered with brutal clarity. The gesture was so perfectly executed that only the Poddars, specifically Kaveri and Vidya, felt the full, icy force of it.

From behind the ropes, Kaveri’s eyes narrowed into slits ofpure, unadulterated fury. Vidya visibly flinched, her own pride momentarily shattered. Muskan had not just ignored them; she had actively, gracefully, and publicly put them in their place.

Next came Ruhi and Daksh. Ruhi, in her cranberry gown,radiated sophisticated cool, a true global elite. Beside her, nine-year-oldDaksh, utterly adorable in his custom suit, waved shyly at the cameras, meltinghearts instantly.

From behind the velvet ropes, Kaveri, Vidya, and ManishaPoddar watched, their jaws slack. The sight of Daksh, Rohit's son, lookingevery inch a Goenka prince, hit them with a wave of mixed awe and deep-seatedannoyance. Vidya’s face was a mask of furious, grudging admiration. EvenKaveri's formidable gaze held a flicker of surprise at their sheer, undeniablepresence.

Finally, the last car door opened, and Dr. Kaira Goenka madeher entrance. Dressed in the exquisite Manish Malhotra emerald green lehenga,her hair sculpted, her diamonds gleaming, she stepped onto the carpet with aneffortless aura of dazzling beauty and absolute confidence. Every head turned.The cameras went into overdrive. She wasn't just beautiful; she was a force ofnature, a vision of polished, intellectual allure.

Hidden within the Poddar group, Aaryan Poddar watched Kaira.His composure, usually so carefully maintained, slipped. A small, almostimperceptible smile touched his lips, a mixture of pride, awe, and a hint ofalmost giddiness. He saw her, not just as his fiancée, but as the dazzlingfuture he had meticulously planned. His cute reaction was a stark contrast tothe boiling resentment around him.

The grand auditorium of the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre wasless a hall and more a hushed, cavernous sanctuary, dedicated to the worship ofhigh art and high status.

The ceiling soared to an immense height, a vast dome ofpolished mahogany inlaid with shimmering, intricate bronze filigree. Suspendedfrom the very apex of this dome was a breathtaking custom-designed centerpiece:a monumental crystal and bronze chandelier, sculpted into the form of anabstract, inverted lotus. It cascaded thousands of facets of light onto thehall below, demanding all attention and symbolizing the purity of the art itwas built to house.

Below, the space was structured for maximum impact: Tiered seating swept dramatically toward the stage, while two colossal, cantilevered balconies jutted out gracefully, allowing guests a panoramic view of the entire scene.

The seating across all levels was upholstered in a custom-dyed, deep sapphire velvet that absorbed the light, giving the room a jewel-box quality. The walls were paneled entirely in exotic, oiled South Indian teak, painstakingly sculpted to optimize the sound.

Every detail from the weight of the imported Portuguese marble underfoot to the soft, golden light filtering through discrete alcoves declared the unparalleled wealth of the Goenkas.

Hundreds of dignitaries, draped in couture and diamonds,took their seats under the sweeping curves of the high ceiling. The lightingwas subtly theatrical, focusing attention entirely on the central stage.

The Poddars and Bansals were ushered to their reserved,prominent row. The moment the spotlight dimmed, the internal shock resurfaced.Kaveri Poddar sat ramrod straight, her expression carved from stone, unwillingto show her fury at the public slight. Vidya, next to her, vibrated withcontained resentment.

Abhira, catching her breath, felt the cold air pressingagainst her. It was a stark contrast to the stifling, often emotionally heatedenvironment of the Poddar house. The coolness here was the very essence ofGoenka power: untouchable, flawless, and utterly unforgiving. The internalshock from the red carpet was amplified by the realization that they were nowsitting in a Goenka temple, where the rules of engagement were entirelynon-Poddar.

The atmosphere turned reverent as the program commenced.Kairav and Muskan Goenka gracefully ascended the stage. Kairav lookedcommanding in his bandhgala, while Muskan’s sapphire silk caught thestage lights, embodying the quiet, absolute authority of the hosts.

Kairav's Opening Address

Kairav began his address, his voice warm and resonant,shifting seamlessly from corporate authority to deep personal emotion.

Kairav Goenka: "Friends, esteemed guests, welcome to the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre. This evening, we are not just opening abuilding. We are fulfilling a dream the dream of a little girl who grew up tobe a phenomenal woman, my mother, Naira Singhania Goenka."

His voice softened, drawing the audience in.

Kairav: " Maa was a dancer, an artist, a life force. She taught us that legacy is not measured in balance sheets, but in thebeauty you leave behind. This Centre, from its grand Naira Auditorium to thevery last practice room, is built to ensure that beauty and art flourish in Udaipur, in her memory."

He paused, a flicker of pride in his eyes.

Kairav: "This project, built in collaboration with thepeople of Rajasthan, is our family's promise to foster the arts, just as myfather Mr Kartik Goenka envisioned. Thank you for celebrating this deeplypersonal moment with us."

The applause was thunderous and heartfelt.

As Kairav and Muskan stepped aside, the Emcee returned, hisvoice booming with importance.

Emcee: "And now, to honor the Goenka family’s enduringcommitment to service and legacy, we invite the key pillars of this projectonto the stage. Please welcome the Hon’ble Chief Minister of Rajasthan, Smt.Meenakshi Rathore!"

The CM, a woman of sharp political elegance, took her place.

Emcee: "Joining her, we invite Ruhi Birla,Abhira Sharmaand Abhir Sharma! And representing the dedication of the next generation, weinvite Dr Kaira Goenka!"

The names echoed through the hall. Ruhi, Abhir, and Abhirawalked onto the stage, their presence a powerful declaration of the family’sunity and influence.

In the Poddar row, Vidya inhaled sharply, her facecontorting in undisguised fury.

Vidya (Hissing to Kaveri): "Abhira is up there? Abhir?And Ruhi? But not Armaan? The son-in-law? The damaad of this family?They have deliberately insulted him! They are treating Armaan like a secondaryguest! This is unbearable arrogance!"

Kaveri simply closed her eyes briefly, the public slightfueling her growing resolve.

Emcee: "And finally, we have one more surprise guest."

He paused dramatically, the stage lights shifting, bathingthe empty spot beside the CM in anticipation.

Emcee: "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome..."

The auditorium held its breath, and the Poddar familytensed, dreading who the Goenkas had chosen to place in the spotlight next.

As always, a great update. I loved the descriptions about how they were dressed. The Goenkas have great style.

Why is ru salty with dadi and v mata for not standing by when ar ab bullied her during surrogacy ?

Maybe this was her last gift coz rohit wanted it

What do muskan feels about abir current support and not giving reality check to abira .. letting her keep going back to ar without warning ( or did he and we will c soon why he kept quiet? )

Final person 😅 ally ? Hmm shivu birla ?

Originally posted by: A_Star39

Part 9:The opening

The inner sanctum of the Goenka Villa’s master dressing wing had been meticulously transformed, not into a dressing room, but into the hushed, high-stakes backstage of a private runway show. The air was thick with the faint, expensive scent of Oud Wood by Tom Ford and the gentle whir of professional diffusers. Stylists, makeup artists, and hair architects moved with silent, focused precision, tending to the family as if preparing royalty for a coronation.

Muskan Goenka, standing before a mirrored console, was the epitome of inherited grace fused with modern allure. Her skin possessed the flawless patina of carefully preserved wealth. She was draped in a hand-dyedSabyasachi sapphire silk saree, the pallu flowing with liquid elegance. Theblouse, a sleeveless, deep-cut whisper of matching silk, highlighted her toned physique. Around her throat, a vintage Cartier diamond riviere glittered with cool fire, declaring a status untouchable by mere currency.

Kairav (His voice a low, approving timbre): "Muskan,you are magnificent. Tom Ford designed this charcoal grey bandhgala on your request.Thanks love."

In the adjacent area, Kaira was receiving the final touches.Her demeanor was clinical, focused entirely on the outcome. Her attire was a deliberate contradiction: a Manish Malhotra emerald green lehenga,structured like architecture, the traditional embroidery pared down to sharp,geometric lines. Her hair was pulled into a severe, powerful chignon,emphasizing the Hermès diamond studs she wore. She was armed, formidable, and entirely focused on the battlefield ahead.

Ruhi, the strategic weapon flown in from Tokyo, moved with the unhurried confidence of a global executive. She chose a breathtaking Tarun Tahilliani fusion gown a deep cranberry shade that flowed in structured pleats,a perfect visual metaphor for the Goenka blend of heritage and global reach.Around her wrist, the subtle, floral brilliance of a Van Cleef bracelet was theonly softness allowed.

Even nine-year-old Daksh was part of the sartorial defense.He stood patiently, enduring a final adjustment from his dresser. He wore anexquisitely tailored, cute navy-blue suit by Ralph Lauren, complete with aperfectly tied bow tie and crisp white shirt. The suit managed to look bothformal and entirely charming, a perfect miniature of his adult family members'elegance.

Daksh (Muttering to Ruhi, fidgeting): "Mumma, this istaking long. I think this jacket is too stiff for a gamer."

Ruhi (Smiling, adjusting his bow tie): "Patience, my dakshu maharaj. Today, we are not just attending an opening; we are presenting a flawless front. Every detail is strategy."

With a final check in the mirrors, the Goenka family,polished, powerful, and perfectly poised in their couture armor, descended thestaircase. They were ready to deliver their subtle, calculated message at theprestigious Naira Goenka Cultural Centre.

The Poddar Mansion was a hive of frantic, competitive energy. The house, overflowing with inherited wealth, felt like a pressurecooker as the family prepared for the evening.

Kaveri Poddar was seated regally, enduring the adjustment of her heavy, traditional maroon silk patola saree and antique gold jewelry, a fortune in tradition designed to project unchallengeable authority.Vidya, in her bright, slightly loud rani pink georgette, stacked diamond bangles, her eyes darting constantly, looking for flaws in the others.

Vidya (To herself, adjusting her heavy jhumkas):"Ruhi won't come here, and Muskan ji thinks she’s a queen. We shall see whose wealth shines brighter tonight."

Manisha, shimmering in gold and orange silk, fretted openly about the social stakes to her husband, Manoj, who simply adjusted his conservative suit and maintained a thoughtful silence.

Armaan, stiff and resentful in his sharp black suit, was shepherding his daughter, Maira. Maira (Pookie), dressed in a lace-trimmed gown that was perhaps too formal for her age, observed the high tension with a child's curious solemnity.

Abhira was dressing with strained focus, the deep red of her saree reflecting her internal "anger ka fever" over the insult of armaan, momentarily distracted by the family feud.

Aaryan Poddar looked immaculate in his charcoal grey suit,but his internal state was a storm of nerves. He was the only one in the room harboring the explosive secret, and the weight of the impending betrayal showed in the tightness of his shoulders. He kept his phone tucked low, sending a final, coded message to Kaira about his arrival time.

Aaryan (Muttering to himself): "Just a few more hours,and the die is cast. No one here suspects a thing..."

His sister, Kiara, dressed in an elegant silver lehenga,stood nearby,thinking about Abhir

Tanya Raizada Bansal, Krish’s wife, provided a bizarre,high-energy contrast to the surrounding gloom. She was bubbling with genuineexcitement to see her cousins, completely oblivious to the war footing.

Tanya (Bouncing slightly, adjusting her dramatic, modern dress): "This is going to be so much fun! I need to know all the Tokyo gossip from Ruhi, and Kaira hasn't seen my new diamond earrings! I just hope Krish doesn't sulk the entire time."

Krish Bansal, Tanya's husband and Kajal's son, was thepicture of resigned boredom. He stood by the main staircase, phone in hand,looking utterly disinterested in the entire affair. He was impeccably dressed,but his mind was clearly miles away from the social climbing.

Krish (To himself, scrolling his phone): "Another Poddar family event where the highlight is watching my mother and Vidya mami fight over who looks richer. Kill me now."

Kajal Poddar Bansal, Krish's mother, watched the scene witha practical eye. She was dressed elegantly but focused her energy on protectingher daughter-in-law from Vidya’s inevitable barbs.

Kajal (Guiding Tanya slightly away from Vidya): "Tanya,dear, let's wait by the door. And Krish, try to look marginally less annoyedfor your grandmother's sake. The Goenkas will be judging our entire clantonight."

The Poddars finally gathered in the foyer a dazzling displayof competitive wealth, strained smiles, and tightly held secrets ready todescend upon the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre, completely unaware that one oftheir own was about to detonate a strategic bomb.

The grand entrance to the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre wasawash in the blinding white light of a hundred camera flashes. A long, plushred carpet stretched from the imposing archway to the main doors, flanked byvelvet ropes and a buzzing throng of reporters, paparazzi, and eager onlookers.The air thrummed with the excitement of a high-profile event, graced bydignitaries, Rajasthan’s Chief Minister, prominent billionaires, leadingdoctors, influential artists, and even a smattering of movie stars.

The Poddar convoy pulled up first, their luxury sedans atestament to their wealth. Kaveri Poddar, in her formidable maroon silk, led the charge, followed by a glittering Vidya and a flustered Manisha. Armaan,Abhira, and the rest of the family trailed behind, ready to make their grandsocial statement.

As they stepped out, poised to stride onto the red carpet, aline of uniformed security guards—all under the Goenka payroll stepped forward.

Guard (Politely, but with unyielding authority):"Poddar family, if you please, could you hold back for a moment? The hosts are just arriving. We need to clear the carpet."

The instruction, delivered in front of the hungry press, wasa calculated public slight. Kaveri’s jaw tightened. Vidya’s smile froze.Armaan’s face flushed crimson. They were being made to wait—publicly—for theGoenkas.

Just then, a fleet of sleek, black Mercedes Maybachs glidedto a stop. A hushed silence fell over the crowd as the Goenka family begantheir entrance.

First to emerge were Kairav and Muskan Goenka. Kairav, inhis Tom Ford bandhgala, offered a regal nod to the cameras. But it wasMuskan who stole the show. Draped in her Sabyasachi sapphire saree, thesleeveless blouse accentuating her flawless form, she looked breathtakinglysexy and utterly untouchable. She moved with the poise of a queen, her Cartierdiamonds catching every flash, eliciting gasps and a flurry of frenzied clicks.They weren't just parents; they were icons of power and grace.

With one arm linked through Kairav's, she turned slightly,her profile breathtaking. Her eyes, however, subtly drifted past the cameras,past the cheering crowd, and landed directly on the clustered Poddar family,still held back by security.

A snobby, dismissive expression almost imperceptible to the cameras, but glaringly obvious to the Poddars flashed across her perfect features. It was a look that communicated utter disdain, a cold, silent reminder of their inferior status, held captive behind the velvet ropes. It lasted only a fraction of a second, her smile instantly snapping back into place for the cameras, but the message was delivered with brutal clarity. The gesture was so perfectly executed that only the Poddars, specifically Kaveri and Vidya, felt the full, icy force of it.

From behind the ropes, Kaveri’s eyes narrowed into slits ofpure, unadulterated fury. Vidya visibly flinched, her own pride momentarily shattered. Muskan had not just ignored them; she had actively, gracefully, and publicly put them in their place.

Next came Ruhi and Daksh. Ruhi, in her cranberry gown,radiated sophisticated cool, a true global elite. Beside her, nine-year-oldDaksh, utterly adorable in his custom suit, waved shyly at the cameras, meltinghearts instantly.

From behind the velvet ropes, Kaveri, Vidya, and ManishaPoddar watched, their jaws slack. The sight of Daksh, Rohit's son, lookingevery inch a Goenka prince, hit them with a wave of mixed awe and deep-seatedannoyance. Vidya’s face was a mask of furious, grudging admiration. EvenKaveri's formidable gaze held a flicker of surprise at their sheer, undeniablepresence.

Finally, the last car door opened, and Dr. Kaira Goenka madeher entrance. Dressed in the exquisite Manish Malhotra emerald green lehenga,her hair sculpted, her diamonds gleaming, she stepped onto the carpet with aneffortless aura of dazzling beauty and absolute confidence. Every head turned.The cameras went into overdrive. She wasn't just beautiful; she was a force ofnature, a vision of polished, intellectual allure.

Hidden within the Poddar group, Aaryan Poddar watched Kaira.His composure, usually so carefully maintained, slipped. A small, almostimperceptible smile touched his lips, a mixture of pride, awe, and a hint ofalmost giddiness. He saw her, not just as his fiancée, but as the dazzlingfuture he had meticulously planned. His cute reaction was a stark contrast tothe boiling resentment around him.

The grand auditorium of the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre wasless a hall and more a hushed, cavernous sanctuary, dedicated to the worship ofhigh art and high status.

The ceiling soared to an immense height, a vast dome ofpolished mahogany inlaid with shimmering, intricate bronze filigree. Suspendedfrom the very apex of this dome was a breathtaking custom-designed centerpiece:a monumental crystal and bronze chandelier, sculpted into the form of anabstract, inverted lotus. It cascaded thousands of facets of light onto thehall below, demanding all attention and symbolizing the purity of the art itwas built to house.

Below, the space was structured for maximum impact: Tiered seating swept dramatically toward the stage, while two colossal, cantilevered balconies jutted out gracefully, allowing guests a panoramic view of the entire scene.

The seating across all levels was upholstered in a custom-dyed, deep sapphire velvet that absorbed the light, giving the room a jewel-box quality. The walls were paneled entirely in exotic, oiled South Indian teak, painstakingly sculpted to optimize the sound.

Every detail from the weight of the imported Portuguese marble underfoot to the soft, golden light filtering through discrete alcoves declared the unparalleled wealth of the Goenkas.

Hundreds of dignitaries, draped in couture and diamonds,took their seats under the sweeping curves of the high ceiling. The lightingwas subtly theatrical, focusing attention entirely on the central stage.

The Poddars and Bansals were ushered to their reserved,prominent row. The moment the spotlight dimmed, the internal shock resurfaced.Kaveri Poddar sat ramrod straight, her expression carved from stone, unwillingto show her fury at the public slight. Vidya, next to her, vibrated withcontained resentment.

Abhira, catching her breath, felt the cold air pressingagainst her. It was a stark contrast to the stifling, often emotionally heatedenvironment of the Poddar house. The coolness here was the very essence ofGoenka power: untouchable, flawless, and utterly unforgiving. The internalshock from the red carpet was amplified by the realization that they were nowsitting in a Goenka temple, where the rules of engagement were entirelynon-Poddar.

The atmosphere turned reverent as the program commenced.Kairav and Muskan Goenka gracefully ascended the stage. Kairav lookedcommanding in his bandhgala, while Muskan’s sapphire silk caught thestage lights, embodying the quiet, absolute authority of the hosts.

Kairav's Opening Address

Kairav began his address, his voice warm and resonant,shifting seamlessly from corporate authority to deep personal emotion.

Kairav Goenka: "Friends, esteemed guests, welcome to the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre. This evening, we are not just opening abuilding. We are fulfilling a dream the dream of a little girl who grew up tobe a phenomenal woman, my mother, Naira Singhania Goenka."

His voice softened, drawing the audience in.

Kairav: " Maa was a dancer, an artist, a life force. She taught us that legacy is not measured in balance sheets, but in thebeauty you leave behind. This Centre, from its grand Naira Auditorium to thevery last practice room, is built to ensure that beauty and art flourish in Udaipur, in her memory."

He paused, a flicker of pride in his eyes.

Kairav: "This project, built in collaboration with thepeople of Rajasthan, is our family's promise to foster the arts, just as myfather Mr Kartik Goenka envisioned. Thank you for celebrating this deeplypersonal moment with us."

The applause was thunderous and heartfelt.

As Kairav and Muskan stepped aside, the Emcee returned, hisvoice booming with importance.

Emcee: "And now, to honor the Goenka family’s enduringcommitment to service and legacy, we invite the key pillars of this projectonto the stage. Please welcome the Hon’ble Chief Minister of Rajasthan, Smt.Meenakshi Rathore!"

The CM, a woman of sharp political elegance, took her place.

Emcee: "Joining her, we invite Ruhi Birla,Abhira Sharmaand Abhir Sharma! And representing the dedication of the next generation, weinvite Dr Kaira Goenka!"

The names echoed through the hall. Ruhi, Abhir, and Abhirawalked onto the stage, their presence a powerful declaration of the family’sunity and influence.

In the Poddar row, Vidya inhaled sharply, her facecontorting in undisguised fury.

Vidya (Hissing to Kaveri): "Abhira is up there? Abhir?And Ruhi? But not Armaan? The son-in-law? The damaad of this family?They have deliberately insulted him! They are treating Armaan like a secondaryguest! This is unbearable arrogance!"

Kaveri simply closed her eyes briefly, the public slightfueling her growing resolve.

Emcee: "And finally, we have one more surprise guest."

He paused dramatically, the stage lights shifting, bathingthe empty spot beside the CM in anticipation.

Emcee: "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome..."

The auditorium held its breath, and the Poddar familytensed, dreading who the Goenkas had chosen to place in the spotlight next.

Plz let that be tanya or aryan……tanya as powerful businessman ansh ka behan and their besties daughter…..or aryan as to be damad….either way armoron and co will be insulted