HUKUMAT : WAR FOR THRONES

Unspoken truths

Jaipur

Jaipur had transformed into a living dream, shimmering in the golden glow of wedding preparations. The city, known for its grandeur and royal heritage, was adorned like a bride—every street decked in vibrant colors, every home lit with strings of twinkling lights, and the air filled with the sweet scent of marigolds. And why not? It was the grand wedding of the Sherawat family, one of the most respected royal families in Jaipur. The entire city had turned into a celebration, with everyone eager to witness the union that would soon take place in the historical Sherawat Mansion.

Sherawat Mansion

As Ishaan and his team arrived at the Sherawat Mansion, they were greeted by the sight of the magnificent palace-like home. The mansion was a testament to the family's long-standing history and wealth, standing tall with its grand domes and intricately designed arches. The gates opened, revealing the lush, sprawling lawns lit with lanterns, leading to the mansion’s ornate doors.

At the grand entrance, an old caretaker stood next to Rupali, who held a traditional Pooja thali in her hands. Varsha stood beside her, holding a mud pot filled with burning red chillies, the smoke rising and curling into the evening sky, a protective ritual the family believed in. They had been waiting patiently for Ishaan and his brothers, eager to perform the welcoming aarti.

As Rupali gently circled the thali in front of the men, Varsha began burning the chillies, muttering a silent prayer for their protection.

“Mamma, yeh kya ho raha hai?” Shivay asked with a confused look, covering his nose with a handkerchief as the pungent smoke wafted towards him.

“Nazar utaar rahi hoon, mere phool se. Baccha, na jaane kaun kaun ghoom raha hoga, kiski buri nazar lag jaye,” Varsha replied, her tone filled with love and concern for her sons.

With the ritual complete, the family entered the mansion, greeting their relatives one by one. Each reunion was filled with warmth and laughter, the kind of joy that only comes when family members reunite after a long time. Everyone was happy to see each other—except for Ishaan, who remained on his phone, his business dealings never truly leaving him alone.

As the family gathered in the grand hall, a place filled with beautiful chandeliers, antique furniture, and rich tapestries, Ishaan was still absorbed in his call. The others were already deep in conversation, catching up on family matters and wedding preparations. Moments later, Ishaan finally ended the call and walked into the hall.

Before he could even step in fully, two figures came running towards him from the terrace.

“Bhai! Aap aa gaye!” Shivani and Shivi, the younger sisters, squealed in delight as they dashed toward him, arms wide open.

The two of them collided with Ishaan, wrapping their arms around him tightly, almost knocking him off balance.

“Shivani, Shivi! Aram se, chot lag jayegi!” Rupali scolded gently, unable to hide the worry in her voice as she watched her daughters cling to their elder brother.

Before anyone could say anything else, Rudraksha, Ishaan’s cousin, laughed and added teasingly, “Aree, aap kyun pareshan hoti ho? Inka big brother hai na!”

The hall echoed with laughter as Ishaan hugged his sisters back, a rare soft smile appearing on his usually stern face. But the moment was short-lived, as his bua, Malti, couldn’t resist poking fun at him.

“Ishu, shadi ke kya plans hai?” Malti asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Ishaan froze for a moment, his face stiffening. But before he could answer, his mother Rupali stepped in.