Chapter 6 (Some People Start Feeling Like Home)
The Sangeet Night
The wedding venue looked like absolute chaos.
Golden lights hung across the lawn.
Music blasted from giant speakers.
Relatives danced with alarming confidence.
And somewhere in the middle of all this disaster—
Rajji stood beside Dheeraj trying to process how she had ended up here.
“This is insane,” she whispered while watching two uncles aggressively dance to a remix song.
Dheeraj nodded calmly.
“One of them already injured his shoulder.”
Rajji looked horrified.
“How do you know?”
“He injured it yesterday too.”
Rajji burst into laughter.
Dheeraj glanced toward her automatically.
And there it was again.
That feeling.
The strange comfort of making her laugh.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Before either could continue speaking, Arjun appeared dramatically out of nowhere.
“WHY are you both standing like introverted lovers in a corner?”
Rajji nearly choked on her juice.
Dheeraj looked spiritually exhausted already.
“Go away.”
“No,” Arjun replied proudly. “As best friend, irritating you is my cultural responsibility.”
Rajji laughed again.
Traitor.
Absolute traitor.
Rajji Versus Punjabi Wedding Energy
Ten minutes later, Rajji learned something important:
Punjabi wedding people did not believe in personal space.
“BETA COME DANCE!”
A random auntie grabbed Rajji’s hand before she could escape.
“No no aunty I don’t—”
Too late.
Within seconds Rajji got dragged directly into the center of the dance floor.
Dheeraj stood nearby watching with poorly hidden amusement.
Rajji pointed accusingly at him while being forced into choreography.
“You could help!”
“You look emotionally committed already.”
“I hate you!”
“No, you don’t.”
Rajji froze for half a second.
Because suddenly—
that sentence felt strangely familiar.
Warm.
Dangerously warm.
Before she could think about it further, the music changed loudly and everyone screamed excitedly.
Arjun shoved Dheeraj forward dramatically.
“YOUR TURN!”
“I’m not dancing.”
“Yes you are.”
“No.”
“You brought a girl. Society expects performance now.”
Rajji laughed so hard she nearly lost balance.
Dheeraj glared at his friends.
Then unfortunately—
the crowd started chanting his name.
“DHEERAJ! DHEERAJ! DHEERAJ!”
Rajji folded her arms smugly.
“Looks like destiny wants humiliation.”
Dheeraj looked at her calmly for a few seconds.
Then suddenly walked straight toward her.
Rajji blinked.
“What are you doing?”
“You wanted entertainment.”
Before she could react—
Dheeraj grabbed her wrist gently and pulled her toward the center of the dance floor beside him.
Rajji looked scandalized.
“You’re dragging me into this?!”
“You’re already suffering. We suffer together.”
The music exploded around them.
People clapped loudly.
Rajji laughed helplessly while Dheeraj shook his head with quiet amusement beside her.
And somewhere between music, lights, teasing, and accidental touches—
something shifted.
Because suddenly this no longer felt like two strangers joking around.
It felt easy.
Natural.
Like they had known each other longer than a few days.
The Slow Dance Nobody Expected
Later that night, the loud dance music finally softened.
Couples slowly moved toward the dance floor as a romantic song began playing.
Rajji immediately stepped backward.
“No.”
Dheeraj raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“I’m not doing romantic dancing with you.”
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You called it romantic first.”
Rajji looked offended instantly.
“That’s not the point!”
Dheeraj looked toward the dance floor calmly.
“Relax. I wasn’t asking.”
“Oh.”
A pause.
Then—
“That sounded slightly rude.”
“A little.”
Rajji narrowed her eyes.
“Confidence is still dangerous.”
“And yet you’re still here.”
The sentence settled softly between them.
Not teasing this time.
Honest.
Rajji looked away first.
Because suddenly the atmosphere felt too quiet.
Too close.
Too real.
Before either could recover, Arjun appeared AGAIN like a curse sent by the universe.
“You both have chemistry that could power Delhi.”
Dheeraj sighed deeply.
“Why are you always nearby?”
“Because your love story is entertaining.”
Rajji pointed aggressively.
“There is NO love story.”
Arjun looked at Dheeraj.
“She’s in denial.”
Dheeraj looked at Rajji thoughtfully for a second before replying—
“Severe denial.”
Rajji gasped loudly.
Then immediately walked away in fake outrage while both men laughed behind her.
But the truth followed her anyway.
Because for the first time in a very long while—
someone was beginning to feel dangerously important too quickly.
The Balcony Conversation
By midnight, the wedding venue had become louder, messier, and emotionally unstable.
Half the relatives were dancing.
The other half were giving life advice nobody asked for.
Rajji escaped both situations professionally.
She stepped onto the quieter hotel balcony overlooking Delhi’s glowing night lights and exhaled softly.
Cold wind brushed through her hair.
For the first time all evening—
silence.
“Running away?”
Rajji closed her eyes immediately.
“Do you appear everywhere?”
Dheeraj walked beside her casually, holding two glasses of soft drink.
“I was invited.”
“You definitely followed me.”
“Your ego is fascinating.”
Rajji accepted the glass from him anyway.
“Thank you.”
Dheeraj leaned against the railing beside her quietly.
Below them, the city glittered endlessly.
Cars moved like tiny streams of light.
Somewhere far away, faint wedding music still echoed through the night air.
For once—
neither teased each other immediately.
And somehow that felt more dangerous than the arguments.
Rajji looked sideways at him after a moment.
“You’re surprisingly different.”
Dheeraj raised an eyebrow slightly.
“That sounds suspicious.”
“I mean…” she searched for words carefully, “…when I first saw you at the airport, I thought you were arrogant.”
“I am arrogant.”
“You’re also nice sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
Rajji nodded seriously.
“I believe in balanced criticism.”
Dheeraj laughed softly under his breath.
Then glanced toward her.
“And you’re less terrifying than I expected.”
Rajji looked offended.
“I was never terrifying.”
“You threatened airport security over chips.”
“They insulted my snacks.”
“That sentence still sounds insane.”
Rajji laughed quietly.
The sound lingered softly in the cold air between them.
Then silence returned again.
But this silence felt different.
Comfortable.
The kind people accidentally begin depending on.
Dheeraj noticed Rajji rubbing her hands against the cold breeze again.
Without thinking much, he removed his jacket and held it toward her.
Rajji blinked.
“You’ll freeze.”
“I’m fine.”
“You always say that.”
The moment the words left her mouth—
both paused.
Because suddenly it sounded familiar.
Strangely familiar.
As though they had stepped unknowingly into an old memory neither understood.
Dheeraj noticed it too.
But before either could think further, Rajji quietly wore the jacket.
It smelled faintly like sandalwood and winter air.
Comforting.
Dangerously comforting.
“Thanks,” she murmured softly.
Dheeraj nodded once.
Then looked away toward the city lights before he accidentally said something reckless.
The Song That Changes Everything
A live singer near the wedding stage suddenly began performing an old romantic Hindi song downstairs.
Soft.
Melodic.
Full of ache.
Rajji leaned slightly over the balcony railing to listen.
“That’s beautiful.”
Dheeraj looked toward the stage below absentmindedly.
“My father likes songs like this.”
Rajji turned toward him.
“Your father’s into old music?”
“He’s a music director.”
Rajji blinked.
“Wait seriously?”
Dheeraj nodded.
“Mahadev.”
The world stopped.
Not visibly.
Not dramatically.
Just internally.
Rajji froze for half a second before forcing herself to stay calm.
Mahadev.
The name sounded strangely familiar.
Not because she knew him personally.
But because somewhere in childhood—
she had heard that name before.
Many times.
Usually followed by silence afterward.
“You okay?” Dheeraj asked casually.
Rajji blinked quickly.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You suddenly disappeared mentally.”
Rajji laughed nervously.
“No, I just…” she hesitated. “My mom used to listen to old music a lot. I think I’ve heard his name.”
Dheeraj smiled faintly.
“He used to be famous once.”
Used to.
Something about that word felt unexpectedly sad.
“What about now?” Rajji asked quietly.
Dheeraj shrugged lightly.
“He still composes sometimes. But not much anymore.”
“Why?”
For the first time since meeting him—
Dheeraj’s expression became unreadable.
“Don’t know,” he answered softly. “I think something changed a long time ago.”
Rajji looked at him carefully.
Then suddenly asked—
“What’s your mom like?”
Dheeraj smiled slightly again.
“Calm. Patient. Completely opposite to me.”
Rajji laughed.
“Impossible.”
“What about your mother?”
Rajji’s expression softened instantly.
“She’s strong.”
The answer came without hesitation.
“Short-tempered,” Rajji added proudly. “Emotionally dramatic. Always shouting at people she loves.”
Dheeraj looked at her knowingly.
“So basically you inherited everything.”
Rajji gasped.
Then shoved his shoulder lightly.
And neither noticed the strange irony quietly settling around them.
Not yet.
The Call From Hardoi
Rajji’s phone rang just as she was about to argue with Dheeraj again.
She glanced at the screen and immediately softened.
“Ma.”
Dheeraj noticed the change in her expression instantly.
Rajji stepped slightly aside before answering.
“Hello?”
Bhanu’s voice arrived immediately—
“Rajji! Finally! Why weren’t you picking up?”
Rajji smiled helplessly.
“My phone died earlier.”
“Of course it did. You and responsibility have lifelong problems.”
“Wow. Very loving.”
“Did you eat?”
Rajji rolled her eyes affectionately.
“Yes.”
“Properly?”
“Yes, Ma.”
“And Delhi? Everything okay?”
Rajji leaned lightly against the balcony railing.
“Yeah… it’s nice.”
Dheeraj watched her quietly from a small distance away.
This was a different Rajji.
Softer.
Warmer.
Less chaotic.
“You sound happy,” Bhanu observed suddenly.
Rajji blinked.
“No I don’t.”
“You do.”
“Ma…”
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened!”
Bhanu laughed softly on the other side of the call.
And for one strange second—
Dheeraj looked up sharply.
Something about that laugh.
Familiar.
Not recognizable exactly.
Just…
familiar.
Rajji noticed his expression briefly.
“You okay?”
Dheeraj blinked out of thought instantly.
“Hm? Yeah.”
Meanwhile Bhanu continued speaking on the phone—
“Anyway, come back safely. And don’t trust strangers.”
Rajji glanced sideways at Dheeraj automatically.
Too late.
He noticed.
And smirked immediately.
Rajji looked offended.
“Ma, I have to go.”
“Why are you whispering suddenly?”
“BYE MA.”
She disconnected immediately.
Dheeraj looked deeply entertained now.
“Your mother already dislikes me.”
“She doesn’t even know you.”
“She sensed danger spiritually.”
Rajji folded her arms.
“You ARE danger.”
“That sounds slightly romantic.”
“It was an insult.”
“Multitasking.”
Rajji failed to hide her smile.
Again.
The Photo Booth Disaster
Unfortunately for Rajji’s emotional stability, the wedding organizers had also installed a photo booth nearby.
Which meant chaos became inevitable.
“GROUP PHOTO!” Arjun screamed suddenly.
Before Rajji could escape, she got dragged directly toward the decorated backdrop beside Dheeraj.
“No no no,” she protested immediately. “I don’t belong in wedding memories!”
“Too late,” Arjun declared proudly.
Everyone squeezed together while the photographer adjusted the camera dramatically.
“Closer!” he instructed.
Rajji and Dheeraj looked at each other with mutual suspicion.
“This man is dangerous,” Rajji whispered.
“He’s drunk on artistic authority,” Dheeraj replied calmly.
“Sir, little closer please!”
Rajji moved exactly one centimeter.
The photographer looked offended.
“Madam, this is not passport photo.”
Everyone burst into laughter.
Before Rajji could react, someone from behind accidentally pushed forward—
and she stumbled directly into Dheeraj.
His hand instinctively steadied her waist.
Silence.
Tiny.
Brief.
But enough.
Rajji looked up immediately.
Too close.
Way too close.
Dheeraj’s expression shifted slightly too.
The noisy crowd around them blurred strangely for one suspended moment.
Then—
FLASH.
The camera captured everything.
Rajji stepped back instantly.
The photographer looked emotional.
“Beautiful chemistry!”
“Oh my GOD,” Rajji muttered.
Dheeraj rubbed his forehead tiredly while his friends collapsed laughing behind them.
“Frame this immediately,” Arjun announced dramatically.
“Burn it,” Dheeraj replied.
Rajji looked at him suspiciously.
“You’re very calm for someone who almost caused my cardiac arrest.”
Dheeraj smirked lightly.
“You fell into me.”
“Gravity is problematic.”
“That sounds like avoidance.”
Rajji narrowed her eyes.
“You analyze people too much.”
“And you deflect too much.”
The teasing words were familiar now.
Comfortable now.
And perhaps that was the real danger.
Because neither realized yet how quickly strangers had started becoming necessary to each other.
Before The Night Ends
The wedding crowd slowly began thinning after midnight.
Some guests left.
Others disappeared toward hotel rooms.
The music softened.
Delhi itself seemed quieter somehow.
Rajji stood near the hotel entrance waiting for her cab while Dheeraj remained beside her holding two paper cups of late-night chai.
“You really drink tea at every emotional moment,” Rajji observed.
“It builds character.”
“It builds insomnia.”
Dheeraj handed her one cup anyway.
Rajji accepted it automatically now.
No hesitation.
No awkwardness.
And somehow that tiny comfort frightened her more than everything else.
Because comfort meant attachment.
And attachment meant risk.
“You leave tomorrow?” Dheeraj asked quietly.
Rajji nodded.
“Morning.”
“Hm.”
The simple response felt strangely disappointing.
Rajji noticed immediately.
“You?”
“Another two days.”
Silence settled softly again.
Not empty.
Never empty anymore.
Then suddenly Rajji asked—
“Will you miss me?”
The question escaped before she could stop it.
Dheeraj looked genuinely surprised.
Rajji immediately panicked internally.
Why would she say that?!
But instead of teasing her—
Dheeraj answered honestly.
“Yes.”
The city noise faded somewhere behind them.
Rajji forgot to breathe for half a second.
Because nothing in his expression looked playful now.
He meant it.
Completely.
And suddenly the cold Delhi night did not feel cold at all.
------
To be continued.
Yeh Rishta Kya Kehlata Hai
Geet - Hui Sabse Parayee
Mangal Lakshmi
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