The morning sun filtered through the windows of the Oberoi household, but the real energy was coming from the kitchen.

Raghav Oberoi wasn't just the eldest son, he was the undisputed CEO of the family. Chief Entertainment Officer.

He was dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and was expertly flipping a paratha while humming a Bollywood tune.

He didn't just walk into a room, he claimed it with a grin that suggested he knew a secret the rest of the world hadn't figured out yet.

"Raghav, beta, chai thandi ho rhi hai!"

(Raghav, son, the tea is getting cold!)

His mother called out from the dining table. It was  his Sunday ritual to cook breakfast for his family. To remind them what a great masterchef he was. 

"Bas do minute, Maa."

(Two minutes, Maa.)

Raghav shouted back, sliding a perfectly golden paratha onto a plate.

"Good things come to those who wait, but great things come to those who have me as a son."

Just then, his younger brother, Ishaan, came into the living room, frantically looking for his car keys.

Ishaan was the studious one, the sensible brother, which made him the perfect target for Raghav's antics.

"Bhai, aapne meri car ki chaabi dekhi hai? I'm late for the seminar."

(Bhai, have you seen my car keys?)

Ishaan groaned, ruffling through a pile of newspapers.

Raghav hooked a finger toward the dining table, where the keys were kept carelessly.

"Tera dhyan kidhar hai? Tera hero idhar hai."

(Where is your attention? Your hero is here.)

Raghav sang dramatically and Ishaan snatched the keys, looking at his brother with a weird expression.

"You're way too caffeinated for 8:00 AM. Seriously, aap itne chill kaise ho? Papa is in the study right now checking the final list for the meeting with the Grovers."

(Seriously, how are you so chill?)

Raghav's hand paused for a fraction of a second. The meeting. The one where he was supposed to meet Siya, the woman his parents were convinced was his perfect match.

"Arre, tension kyun leta hai?"

(Arre, why worry?)

Raghav said, slinging an arm around Ishaan's shoulder and dragging him toward the breakfast table.

"Marriage is just a long-term contract with a very high security deposit. Waise bhi, your brother is a charm-machine. Ek baar wo iss chehre ko dekh legi na, she'll be the one worried about whether she's good enough for me. Wo sochti reh jaayegi ki kya kahe."

(…Moreover, your brother is a charm-machine. Once she sees this face, she’ll be the one worried about whether she’s good enough for me. She will be left thinking what to speak.)

His father, a man of few words but a quick wit, adjusted his glasses as he walked in.

"Log toh bohot kuch kehna chahte hain, Raghav, par uske liye tujhe chup rehna padega na beta."

(People want to say a lot, Raghav, but you have to be quiet for that.)

The room erupted in laughter. Raghav clutched his heart, feigning a mortal wound.

"Oho! Dhokha! Even my own father is joining the opposition party? Theek hai, theek hai. Jab main shaadi karke ghar chhod dunga, tab pata chalega."

(Betrayal!...Fine, fine. When I will leave the house after marriage, you will know then.)

"Ghar chhodne ki zaroorat nahi hai. Bahu ghar laa rhe hai. Tujhe vida nhi kr rhe hum."

(No need to leave the house. We are bringing a daughter-in-law home. Not marrying you off somewhere else.)

His mother teased, patting his cheek.

"Bas thoda dhang se behave karna. Siya's family is very traditional. Zyada cool banne ki koshish mat karna."

(Just behave well….No need to act cool.)

Raghav sat down, finally picking up his own cup of chai. He took a slow, thoughtful sip, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"Maa, aap tension mat lo. I'll be the perfect, adarsh (ideal) son-in-law. Par ek baat toh pakki hai."

(One thing is for sure.)

He leaned in, whispering loudly enough for the whole table to hear.

"Agar ye Siya ka sense of humour achha nhi hua na, I'm going to have to charge her a boredom tax every single day."

(If Siya’s humour is not nice.)

"Bhai, just try not to make a joke within the first five minutes."

Ishaan pleaded, heading for the door.

"No promises, kiddo!"

Raghav called out.

"Mithai batwa do, Oberoi Sahab! Aaj toh rishta pakka hoke rahega!"

(Distribute the sweet, Oberoi sir! This marriage will be final today!)

The atmosphere in the Grover household was a completely opposite to the high-energy banter of the Oberois.

Siya Grover sat by the window, her fingers moving with practiced grace as she adjusted the pleats of her pastel satin silk saree.

She was the calm observer who noticed the small things that everyone else missed.

Her younger sister, Riya, was currently a whirlwind of energy, bouncing between her vanity mirror and Siya's bed, trying to decide which earrings would look less traditional but more impressive.

Riya flopped onto the bed, staring at her sister's reflection in the mirror.

"Di, aap itne calmly kaise baitho ho? I'm the one not even getting married and my stomach is doing backflips."

(Di, how are you sitting so calmly?)

Siya turned slightly, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Panic krne se kuch nhi badlega, Riya. Besides, it's just a meeting."

(Nothing will change by panicking.)

Riya rolled her eyes, leaning her chin on her hand.

"Just a meeting? Maa ne chatni mai namak 20 baar check kr lia hai. And Papa? He's been reading the same page of the newspaper for an hour."

(Maa has checked the salt in the sauce 20 times.)

Siya's gaze softened. She knew her family's silence wasn't due to a lack of things to say, but rather the weight of what this day meant.

"They just want everything to be perfect. Tujhe pata hai na wo kaise hai."

(You know how they are.)

"I know. But I also know you. You're going to sit there, look beautiful, and say exactly three words the whole evening."

Their mother knocked gently on the door frame, her eyes brimming with a mixture of happiness and anxiety.

"Siya? Are you ready, bacha? Wo log aate hi honge."

(They must be on their way.)

Siya stood up, smoothing the invisible creases of her saree.

"I'm ready, Maa."

Her mother walked over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Siya's ear.

"Achhe log hai wo log. The boy... Raghav... he's very well-spoken, according to your father's friends."

(They are good people.)

Siya looked down at her hands, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I hope wo achhe insaan bhi ho, Maa. That's all that matters."

(I hope he’s a good man too.)

From the doorway, their father watched them, clearing his throat to hide his emotions. 

Siya walked over and hugged him, the silence between them filled with more understanding than words could manage.

Riya jumped up, breaking the heavy emotional tension with a mischievous grin.

"Okay, enough with the emotional scenes! Agar ye Mr. Raghav utne hi cool hai jitna pictures mai dikhte hai, we're going to have a lot of fun teasing him. Haina, Di?"

(If Mr. Raghav is as cool as he looks in his pictures, we’re going to have a lot of fun teasing him. Right, di?)

Siya managed a faint, nervous laugh. Riya looped her arm through Siya's as they headed downstairs.

"Don't worry. Sab thik hoga. You just sit there and look like the queen you are."

(Everything will be fine.)