Chapter 29
Satrangi Raat, Sacred Vows & A Hint of the Next Knot
The engagement evening arrived like a festival dipped in gold.
The theme read on the grand entrance arch:
**“Satrangi Bandhan – A Celebration of Seven Promises.”**
Inspired by the Punjabi belief that marriage is built on seven spiritual vows, the décor reflected seven colors woven into silk drapes, floral arches, and shimmering chandeliers.
The venue—**Umaid Bhawan Palace**—stood majestic against the twilight sky. Regal sandstone walls glowed under fairy lights, and guests entered through a pathway lined with marigolds and roses.
“Rohan Mehra has taste,” Suhani whispered to Dhruv as they stepped inside.
Dhruv glanced around calmly. “Or good event planners.”
She nudged him. “Let romance exist.”
The engagement ceremony began with soft shabad kirtan in the background, honoring the Punjabi custom where families exchange gifts and blessings before rings are exchanged.
Rohan stood in an ivory sherwani embroidered with subtle gold threadwork. Niddhi appeared in a blush-pink lehenga with delicate zardozi, her dupatta draped gracefully over her head.
As rings were exchanged, applause echoed through the palace courtyard.
Rohan’s father hugged Niddhi warmly. “Welcome to the family.”
His mother smiled—still reserved—but softer than before.
Suhani noticed.
Growth sometimes speaks quietly.
—
The night turned electric as the DJ switched to wedding hits.
Uncle Harbhajan, self-proclaimed dance king of Ludhiana, rushed to the stage first.
“Put ‘Mundian To Bach Ke!’” he demanded loudly.
Within minutes, cousins, aunties, and even corporate colleagues were dancing like teenagers.
And then—
The crowd began chanting.
“Dhruv! Suhani! Dhruv! Suhani!”
Suhani’s eyes widened. “No.”
Dhruv smirked. “Yes.”
He extended his hand. “Dr. Suhani Singh, shall we?”
They stepped onto the stage as “Gallan Goodiyan” played.
Suhani laughed as Dhruv, usually composed and reserved, matched every step with unexpected charm.
Guests cheered louder.
“Next wedding confirmed!” someone shouted jokingly.
Even Rohan leaned toward Niddhi and whispered, “They’re next.”
Niddhi smiled knowingly.
—
The bachelor party the following night was nothing short of cinematic.
Held in a private villa overlooking the desert landscape, the night exploded with music, drinks, and laughter.
Professional dancers performed bhangra and contemporary fusion numbers.
Rohan’s friends teased him endlessly.
“Last night of freedom!”
Dhruv, surprisingly relaxed, clinked glasses with him.
“You look calm,” Rohan said.
“I am,” Dhruv replied.
“Confident?”
Dhruv’s gaze drifted toward the horizon.
“Certain.”
Meanwhile, at the bachelorette party, Niddhi was surrounded by glitter, laughter, and emotional speeches.
Suhani raised a toast.
“To the girl who chose patience over panic.”
Niddhi hugged her tightly.
“And to the girl who taught me emotional resilience.”
Tears mixed with laughter.
—
The wedding day dawned under a clear blue sky.
Guests traveled to the next breathtaking location—**Lake Como**.
Crystal waters.
Mountain reflections.
A mandap built over a floating glass platform.
White orchids and deep red roses intertwined around golden pillars.
The theme: **“Anand Karaj – Union of Souls.”**
The Punjabi Sikh wedding ceremony, Anand Karaj, originates from Guru Amar Das Ji’s teachings, symbolizing spiritual unity rather than just social bonding.
As the Guru Granth Sahib was respectfully placed, silence enveloped the gathering.
Rohan entered on a decorated boat instead of a traditional ghodi, blending heritage with grandeur.
Dhol beats echoed across the lake.
His sehra shimmered in the sunlight.
Niddhi arrived escorted by her father, dressed in a deep red bridal lehenga with heavy kundan jewelry. The traditional kaleeras swayed gently from her wrists.
The laavan (four sacred pheras) began.
With each round around the Guru Granth Sahib, the Granthi recited verses symbolizing:
• Duty and righteousness
• Love and devotion
• Detachment from ego
• Spiritual union
Tears filled Niddhi’s eyes as she completed the fourth phera.
Rohan squeezed her hand reassuringly.
This was no longer a celebration.
It was sacred.
—
Of course, Punjabi weddings never remain solemn for long.
At the joota chupai ritual, Niddhi’s cousins stole Rohan’s shoes.
“Five lakhs!” they demanded dramatically.
Rohan laughed. “This is extortion!”
Dhruv stepped in calmly. “Negotiation is my specialty.”
After playful bargaining, the deal closed at two lakhs and a promise of international chocolates.
Uncle Harbhajan reappeared mid-dance floor shouting, “Now real bhangra!”
Even Rohan’s usually reserved mother joined briefly, surprising everyone.
And when she hugged Niddhi during the vidaai, she whispered softly, “Take care of my son.”
For the first time, Niddhi heard acceptance in her tone.
—
The reception that evening was nothing short of royal elegance.
Crystal chandeliers reflected on Lake Como’s surface.
Guests wore black-tie attire.
Soft jazz blended into Punjabi beats.
Dhruv and Suhani performed again—this time to “Raabta.”
Their chemistry was effortless.
Slow.
Comfortable.
Certain.
An elderly aunt leaned toward another guest and whispered loudly, “Mark my words. Their wedding will be bigger.”
Suhani overheard and blushed.
Dhruv leaned near her ear. “Told you I don’t perform commitment.”
She smiled mischievously. “You’re already performing.”
—
Finally, as rituals concluded and the newlyweds were escorted to their suite, traditional wedding night customs followed.
Milk with saffron and almonds was placed in the room—a symbol of prosperity and sweetness.
The bed decorated with roses symbolized purity and new beginnings.
Outside, cousins giggled and knocked on the door teasingly before leaving.
Inside, Niddhi sat quietly, veil partially covering her face.
Rohan entered gently.
No jokes.
No drama.
Just warmth.
“We survived,” he said softly.
She smiled through tears.
“We grew.”
He lifted her veil slowly.
“No more distance.”
She nodded.
“No more silence.”
And outside, fireworks lit up Lake Como’s sky.
—
Back in their suite, Suhani stood near the balcony overlooking the shimmering water.
“What are you thinking?” Dhruv asked.
“That love looks different at every stage.”
He joined her.
“And ours?”
She smiled softly.
“Ours is steady.”
He looked at her wrist—the gold bracelet still shining.
“Next wedding?” he teased.
She tilted her head.
“Maybe.”
He smirked slightly.
“Maybe not.”
She laughed.
“Stubborn.”
“Certain.”
As music faded into the night and the grand Punjabi wedding concluded in laughter, love, and luxury, one truth shimmered brighter than chandeliers—
Some weddings celebrate two souls.
Others hint at the next story waiting patiently.
And under the Italian sky, between sacred vows and playful dances—
Another chapter was quietly preparing to begin.
