The next morning, the haveli was filled with the aroma of sandalwood and ghee lamps. Poornima had woken early, her heart still fluttering from the news she’d shared with Veeresh the previous night. He had barely slept — pacing the room, smiling to himself like a man reborn, occasionally touching her cheek as if to make sure she was real.

By dawn, Veerendra and Pratap had returned from their temple visit, cheerful after the election news. Both men were seated in the verandah with tea when Veeresh came, his steps lighter than usual, eyes carrying a secret that was about to change everything.

Pratap noticed first. “You look… unusually happy today,” he teased, sipping his tea. “Did the election officer already promise victory?”

Veeresh laughed softly. “Something even greater than victory, chacha.”

Veerendra raised his brows. “Greater than that? What’s that, beta?”

Veeresh looked toward the doorway. Poornima stepped out, draped in a pale yellow saree, the morning light making her glow. She walked shyly toward them, holding Ira’s little hand.

Veerendra’s eyes softened. “Poornima beta, you look radiant today. What’s the good news?”

Poornima smiled, her gaze flicking toward Veeresh. He cleared his throat and said quietly but proudly, “Appa… Poornima is expecting.”

For a moment, silence reigned — as if even the wind paused to hear it. Then Veerendra’s eyes widened, his hand trembling slightly as he stood. “What did you just say?”

Veeresh repeated, this time with a smile so pure that it reached his eyes. “We are going to be parents again, Appa. You’re going to be a grandfather — once more.”

Veerendra pressed his hand to his forehead, overcome. Pratap clapped his back, half-laughing, half-teary. “Mahadev ki kripa! The temple prediction was true!”

Poornima lowered her eyes modestly, her fingers brushing the end of her saree. “It’s all destiny, Papa. The goddess blessed us.”

Veerendra walked up to her, cupping her head affectionately. “You’ve brought life back to this house, beta. The laughter of a newborn — I thought I’d never hear it again. You and Veeresh have turned this haveli into a home.”

Even Pratap’s usual teasing softened. “Rana sa, it seems the election victory has already come home. You’ve won the biggest prize of life — love and legacy.”

Veeresh smiled, glancing at Poornima. “Yes, chacha. I think this is Mahadev’s way of telling me — every end has a reason, and every reason leads back to love.”

Ira toddled forward and hugged Poornima’s saree. “Mumma, baby in tummy?” she asked, wide-eyed.

Poornima knelt down and kissed her forehead. “Yes, my love. You’ll soon have someone to play with.”

The elders laughed softly as Veeresh lifted Ira into his arms and said, “And you’ll have to share your mumma now, little one.”

Veerendra raised his hands toward the sky, murmuring, “Mahadev, bless this family. Let the Singh-Rathore name continue with peace, love, and strength.”

The bells from the haveli temple chimed again — the same sound that had rung when the old lady made her prediction at the Kuldevi Temple. It felt like destiny had completed a circle.

And as the family stood together — the old, the young, and the new life soon to come — Veeresh looked at Poornima, silently thanking the goddess who brought her into his life.

Because this wasn’t just another chapter in their story.

It was rebirth — of faith, of love, and of family.