As the first light of dawn broke over New Delhi, the city was bathed in a soft, golden glow. The chill of winter was beginning to recede, making way for the gentle warmth of early spring. March in New Delhi was a season of transition; the air was still crisp, carrying the lingering bite of winter, yet there was a promise of the balmy days to come.

Outside the college classroom, the sprawling campus of St. Teresa's Women's College was coming to life. The trees, still bare from the winter, were starting to show signs of new life, with buds slowly beginning to unfurl their delicate petals. The lawn, a lush green carpet, sparkled with morning dew, and a light breeze carried the scent of earth and fresh grass, mingling with the faint fragrance of the blooming jasmine bushes lining the pathways.

The sky was a canvas of pale blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds that drifted lazily, hinting at the calm weather ahead. The sun, just beginning its ascent, cast long shadows across the grounds, lending a serene, almost ethereal quality to the scene. Birds chirped merrily in the trees, their morning song a cheerful herald of the changing season.

Inside one of the classrooms, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the tranquil scene outside. The room was abuzz with the quiet murmur of students, the soft rustle of papers, and the occasional creak of chairs being adjusted. At the front of the room stood Jayasvi Rana, poised and composed, despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Jayasvi was dressed in a bottle green suit paired with a palazzo, the rich hue complementing her pale white complexion,her shoulder draped with the dupatta sophistically. Her long brown hair, cascading down to her knees, was neatly tied in a French Braid, accentuating her delicate features. Despite her beauty, Jayasvi was often plagued by insecurities, especially about her looks and the faint facial hair. A single line of Kajal making her eyes pop out as she stared at her classmates.

The room's lighting was subdued, with the morning sunlight streaming in through the large windows, casting a warm glow on the students seated attentively, waiting for her presentation. Jayasvi took a deep breath, her hazel eyes scanning the room as she prepared to speak on a topic close to her heart: "Gender and Politics."

She began her presentation with a calm, steady voice, the soft cadence of her speech resonating in the quiet room. "Good morning, everyone. Today, I will be discussing the intricate relationship between gender and politics, and how it shapes our society."

As Jayasvi spoke, the sound of her voice mingled with the distant hum of the city outside, a reminder of the world beyond the classroom walls. The weather, with its delicate balance between winter's end and the promise of spring, seemed to mirror the theme of her presentation — a delicate interplay of power and identity, change and continuity.

She had just finished delivering her presentation. The intricate designs of henna on her hands, reaching up to her mid-arm, were a reminder of the festive occasion that awaited her later in the day: her cousin sister's wedding.

"Well done, Jayasvi," her professor commended, her voice carrying a note of approval. "You may leave early, considering the family occasion."

"Thank you, ma'am," Jayasvi replied, gathering her notes with a grateful smile. She glanced once more at Pooja, who was engaged in an animated conversation with her new friend, Shalini. The sight made Jayasvi smile wistfully before she made her way out of the classroom.

As she walked briskly towards the metro station, she dialed her mother's number. The city's vibrant energy was a stark contrast to her own nervous anticipation.

"Jayu, you come with Akshu. Your Taiji said you both can come here together and she'll help you get ready," her mother instructed over the phone.

"Ma, no. I am not getting ready there. I don't even have my dress there. You know I need to go to the parlor as well. I have to get my eyebrows and upper lips done," Jayasvi replied, her voice slightly breathless from walking quickly.

"Okay, as you wish. You get your hair done at the parlor only. I spoke to them about it. Come fast. We need to reach on time," her mother responded before hanging up.

Jayasvi's heart raced as she quickened her pace, weaving through the throngs of people at the metro station. The train ride home seemed to stretch on forever, the minutes ticking by with agonizing slowness. By the time she finally reached home, it was already half past three in the afternoon. Her mother was waiting impatiently in the living room, tapping her foot in frustration.

"Come quickly," her mother urged, grabbing her arm.

"At least let me breathe," Jayasvi protested, trying to catch her breath as she sank into a chair.

"There's no time for that. Come on," her mother insisted, pulling her up again and informing her mother-in-law about their quick departure to the parlor.

"Let me take a bath first," Jayasvi said, pulling her arm away as she headed towards the bathroom.

"Do you think there's time for these dramas?" her mother scolded, but Jayasvi didn't listen. She stepped into the bathroom and took a quick, warm bath. Emerging wrapped in a blue towel, she quickly slipped into the blouse of her lehenga and a pair of denims.

"Ma, zip this up, please," she called out, struggling to fasten the blouse due to the weight of her breasts.

"This girl always delays everything," her mother muttered, zipping up the blouse and tying the knot at the back.

"You should be thankful I washed my hair this morning. I just need to apply some serum to manage them," Jayasvi said, pulling her long hair into a loose bun.

With a jacket thrown over her blouse to conceal it, Jayasvi followed her mother out the door and down to the parlor. The beauticians wasted no time in attending to her. One began working on her eyebrows and upper lip, while another started curling her hair and arranging it into an elegant style.

"Please arrange the Sheeshphool on my head," Jayasvi requested, referring to the traditional decorative headpiece she wanted to wear.

Her mother, after a brief argument about the price, paid the beauticians, and they hurried back home. By the time they arrived, another hour and a half had passed. Jayasvi's grandmother was sitting in the living room, engrossed in her newspaper.

"Dadi, get ready!" Jayasvi called out playfully.

"I don't need three hours to get ready like you do," her grandmother retorted with a chuckle.

Jayasvi was about to respond, but her mother's stern look silenced her. She hurried to her room to finish her makeup.

Jayasvi preferred a natural look, so she applied just enough BB cream and concealer to even out her skin tone. She dabbed on some blush and applied a lipstick that matched her natural lip color. A little bit of Kajal made her eyes bigger.

"Ma, please help me with the eyeliner," she called out, handing the pencil to her mother.

With the eyeliner perfectly in place, Jayasvi finally felt ready. She slipped into the intricate lehenga, the rich fabric shimmering in the light. The deep blue of the skirt contrasted beautifully with her fair skin, and the blouse, now snugly in place, accentuated her slender figure. Her mother helped her drape the dupatta over her shoulder, arranging it carefully to showcase the detailed embroidery.

"You look like a princess," her mother said, her voice filled with pride.

Jayasvi blushed, feeling a surge of confidence that was rare for her. She gave herself one last look in the mirror, adjusting the Sheeshphool on her head, smoothing down the invisible folds of her lehenga. The reflection staring back at her was almost unrecognizable — a confident, beautiful young woman ready to face the world. The long earrings and necklace matching with the stones of the lehenga completed her look.

The house buzzed with activity as the family prepared to leave for the wedding. Jayasvi's grandmother, true to her word, was ready in no time, looking elegant in a simple yet graceful suit. The house was filled with a mix of excitement and tension as everyone hurried about, getting dressed and making last-minute preparations. However, a cloud of unease lingered in the air as Jayasvi noticed her father sitting in the corner, nursing a glass of whiskey.

"Why isn't Papa getting ready?" Jayasvi asked her mother, her voice tinged with concern.

Her mother sighed, glancing at her husband with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "He doesn't want to go. It's better you don't talk to him right now. It will just ruin your mood. Book a cab, we don't have time to waste."

Jayasvi's heart sank. She wanted to persuade her father to come, but she knew her mother was right. Confronting him would only lead to an argument, and she didn't want to start the day on a sour note. Resigned, she called for a cab and soon found herself seated next to her grandmother, who gave her a reassuring smile.

The drive to the wedding venue was filled with chatter and laughter. Jayasvi's mother fretted over every detail, ensuring that nothing was forgotten, while her grandmother regaled them with amusing stories from her youth, lightening the mood considerably. Jayasvi listened, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging that contrasted sharply with the nervousness she had felt earlier.

As they arrived at the venue, a grand hotel adorned with twinkling lights and vibrant decorations, Jayasvi felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. She stepped out of the car, her eyes widening at the sight of the festivities unfolding before her. The air was filled with the sound of music and laughter, the smell of delicious food, and the vibrant colors of traditional attire.

Jayasvi soon met her paternal cousin, Akshara, who greeted her with a warm hug. "Jayu, you look stunning! Come, let me show you around."

Akshara guided Jayasvi through the bustling venue, pointing out various relatives and detailing the preparations that had gone into the wedding. Jayasvi belonged to a large extended family, and the girl getting married was her paternal cousin as well. Their great-great-grandfather was the same, making the relationship somewhat distant, yet the bond of family was still strong.

As they walked through the venue, Jayasvi found herself at the food counters, sampling the delicious spread. She was savoring a particularly tasty French fry when she noticed a commotion at the entrance. Security personnel were moving briskly, and the atmosphere suddenly seemed charged with anticipation.

"What's going on there?" Jayasvi asked Akshara, popping another fry into her mouth.

"The father of the groom is the secretary of Gajraaj Hooda, so he's also attending the wedding," Akshara explained, taking a fry from Jayasvi's plate. Jayasvi's mouth fell open in shock. Gajraaj Hooda, the influential politician and her ideal, was here at the wedding! The thought made her heart race, her mind flashing back to the brief encounter she had had with Raghav Hooda. She had been trying to get over her crush on him, but the mere mention of his name sent her thoughts spiraling.

"I want to get some pictures clicked," their cousin Dhanush said as he approached them. Jayasvi eagerly agreed, feeling a burst of confidence knowing how good she looked today. The appreciative glances she received from people around her bolstered her self-esteem, which was often overshadowed by her insecurities.

The trio moved to the fountain area, taking turns to pose for photographs. Jayasvi twirled in her lehenga, the fabric flaring out beautifully around her, capturing the essence of the celebration. They laughed and took multiple pictures, ensuring to capture the joyous moments.

"Let's make some reels or slow-motion videos," Akshara suggested. Jayasvi agreed, excited to see how her lehenga would look in a slow-motion twirl. She was just finishing a particularly graceful turn when she noticed her maternal cousin, Rishabh, hurrying towards her.

"What's up?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips as she greeted him.

Rishabh grabbed her arm gently but firmly.

Jayasvi's curiosity piqued, and she followed Rishabh through the crowd. As they approached the entrance, her eyes widened in surprise. There, standing amidst a group of people, was her Taiji, talking animatedly with none other than Gajraaj Hooda and his son, Raghav Hooda. Jayasvi's heart skipped a beat. After seeing her there, her Taiji immediately called her much to Rishabh's disapproval.

"She is my niece, Jayasvi," her Taiji introduced, smiling warmly at her.

Jayasvi felt a mixture of shock and excitement. She hadn't expected to be introduced to someone as renowned as Gajraaj Hooda. His kind eyes settled on her, and she could barely manage to join her hands in a respectful greeting.

"Good evening, sir," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

"Good evening. Have we met before?" Gajraaj asked, his tone curious.

Jayasvi's eyes widened in surprise. Did he really remember her? "Yes, sir. At your party office, with my college group," she replied softly.

"Ah, yes. That's where I thought I recognized you from," Gajraaj said with a thoughtful nod. His acknowledgment made her smile shyly, a small sense of validation swelling within her. Despite her nerves, she felt a glimmer of pride.

As Jayasvi exchanged pleasantries with Gajraaj, she couldn't help but steal glances at Raghav. He stood slightly behind his father, his tall, imposing figure clad in a black Kurta Pyjama and an expensive shawl wrapped around his neck that accentuated his broad shoulders and muscular build. His sharp jawline and the slight stubble on his face gave him an air of rugged masculinity, while his intense eyes held a glint of quiet confidence. The sight of him made her heart race, her mind wandering back to their previous encounter.

Raghav's gaze met hers, and for a fleeting moment, Jayasvi felt a spark of something she couldn't quite define. It was as if he saw through her, his eyes holding a promise of something intense and unspoken. She quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and something deeper, more primal.

Despite her attempt to divert her attention, Raghav's presence continued to draw her gaze. His demeanor exuded authority and charisma, commanding attention without effort. Jayasvi found herself captivated by his aura, a blend of mystery and allure that intrigued her more than she cared to admit.

As the evening progressed, Jayasvi found herself navigating through the lively crowd, her senses heightened by Raghav's presence. Despite engaging in light conversation with her relatives, her awareness of him remained acute. His occasional glances in her direction did not go unnoticed, each one sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. She wondered if he felt the same inexplicable pull that seemed to tether them together, like two forces destined to collide.

Rishabh, her maternal cousin, seemed unusually attentive, finding reasons to pull her away from the bustling crowd. Jayasvi couldn't help but notice his attempts to create moments of privacy, his gestures subtle yet deliberate. She wondered what prompted his sudden interest in ensuring her moments away from the crowd.

"Jayu, come on! Let's dance," Akshara's voice cut through Jayasvi's contemplation, accompanied by her Taiji's enthusiastic nodding. "This function needs some energy, and you look like you could use a break."

With a small smile, Jayasvi allowed herself to be led towards the dance floor, the pulsating beats of the DJ drawing her into a whirl of movement. Akshara, her mother, her Taiji and other cousins danced with infectious energy, their laughter mingling with the music as they spun around joyously.

Jayasvi joined them, her initial hesitation melting away as she immersed herself in the rhythm. The music washed over her, momentarily easing the tension that had coiled within her. As she danced, she stole glances at Raghav, who stood at a distance, observing the festivities with a quiet intensity.

Their eyes met briefly, and Jayasvi felt a jolt of awareness shoot through her. It was as if the dance floor had become a stage where their unspoken connection played out, a dance of glances and silent acknowledgments. She couldn't decipher the emotions swirling within her—part excitement, part nervousness, and an undeniable curiosity about Raghav's thoughts.

As the song came to an end, Jayasvi found herself breathless and exhilarated. She returned to her relatives, her cheeks flushed with a mix of exertion and the lingering thrill of the dance. Akshara hugged her tightly, a wide grin on her face.

"That was amazing, Jayu! You should dance more often," Akshara exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jayasvi chuckled, her gaze involuntarily drifting towards Raghav once more. He was no longer standing where she had last seen him. A pang of disappointment tugged at her heart, but she quickly brushed it aside, focusing instead on the joyful atmosphere around her.

I know many of you must have hoped some development taking place between our protagonists.

What do you think about Jayasvi's feelings towards Raghav.

I hope you guys are enjoying the story till now.

Please vote and comment. I could only know if you are appreciating the story if you are voting and commenting on it, this is the only way to know if I am making any mistakes.

Till Next Time...