Chapter 1: The Sudden Vow

It was supposed to be just another family function.

Laughter echoed in the grand ancestral house in Rajarajeshwari Nagar, where the Patils and Suryavanshis had gathered for a small pooja. Poornima, dressed in a casual kurti, had no clue that within hours, her entire life would turn upside down.

She was chatting with Veeresh near the temple backyard, giggling over an old school memory, when a sudden hush spread across the house.

Both turned around, confused.

Their parents stood in front of them — tense, serious, and oddly emotional.

Veeresh’s father spoke first. “We’ve made a decision.”

Poornima frowned. “What decision?”

Her mother stepped forward, voice firm. “You both are getting married. Today. Now.”

The words hit like a thunderclap.

“What?” Poornima’s eyes widened.

Veeresh blinked in disbelief. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Their parents weren’t joking. An astrologer had seen a rare, auspicious muhurtham — one that came once in years. The family elders had long planned their union, but now, due to certain pressing circumstances and talks of an alliance from another family, they didn’t want to wait.

“You're best friends. You know each other better than anyone else. That’s a stronger start than most marriages,” Poornima’s father said gently.

Both of them stood frozen. Speechless.

Poornima turned to Veeresh. “This is mad.”

He swallowed hard. “But I’ll do it… only if you say yes.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “We’re not ready.”

“But maybe,” he whispered, “we’ve always been ready. We just didn’t know it.”

She closed her eyes for a long second… and nodded.

---

One Hour Later: The Direct Wedding

Everything moved in a blur.

In the small temple courtyard of their ancestral home, under the sacred tulsi plant and the rustle of mango leaves, a simple wedding was being prepared.

There were no extravagant rituals. No sangeet, no mehendi, no haldi.

Just raw emotion. Shock. Silence. And the echoing sounds of sacred mantras.

Poornima, now draped in a fresh green silk saree, sat beside the fire. Her hair was tied back simply, jasmine tucked into her braid. A thin gold chain around her neck, small jhumkas, and glass bangles completed her look. No makeup, no fanfare — just natural beauty, teary eyes, and a storm in her heart.

Veeresh sat beside her — wearing a traditional white dhoti, bare-chested, with the sacred janivara (thread) across his shoulder. His forehead bore a sandalwood tilak, his expression solemn but protective.

They sat quietly, side by side, heartbeats racing, hands trembling.

The ring exchange happened next. Someone handed them simple gold bands. Veeresh gently slid the ring on her finger. She looked up at him — vulnerable, unsure — but he gave her the faintest smile.

Then came the sacred moment.

Veeresh picked up the mangalsutra with trembling fingers. The priest chanted louder.

With a deep breath, Veeresh tied it around Poornima’s neck.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

The knot of fate. The moment everything changed.

Before she could gather her thoughts, he took the pinch of sindur and gently, reverently, applied it in the partition of her hair. Her breath hitched. She closed her eyes.

Her hands curled into her saree. Her heart whispered, This is real.

And then, the seven pheras.

They rose, and hand-in-hand, walked around the holy fire — seven rounds, seven vows. Friends in the past. Partners now. Destined for forever.

With each step, a new beginning.

By the end of the seventh phera, the priest declared:

> “You are now husband and wife.”

---

Poornima, now a wife, sat down, staring at the fire. Her eyes welled up — not with regret, but with disbelief.

Veeresh, still beside her, looked at her face. Quiet. Gentle.

He whispered, “Are you okay?”

She nodded slowly. “I don’t know what just happened. But I’m here.”

He smiled softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

The fire crackled. The sky above remained silent. But deep in their hearts, a new chapter had begun — not with planning, not with romance, but with fate, friendship… and an unexpected promise.