'Ishan Oberoi' - The name that echoes success, power, and resilience. A rising billionaire who carved his empire with his own hands, refusing to ride on his father's wealth. Yet, he never turned his back on his responsibilities as a son. Balancing h...
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AADHRITI'S POV :
The palace terrace shimmered under a vast canopy of stars, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the evening. Tonight’s dinner was a prelude to the wedding festivities, an intimate gathering of close family and guests before the formal rituals commenced. The cool night breeze carried the scent of freshly prepared delicacies, mingling with the low hum of conversations and the occasional tinkling of laughter.
As we ascended the marble staircase, the view unfolded before us, a beautifully arranged dinner setting, where guests dined beneath the open sky. Strings of golden fairy lights draped along the pillars, illuminating the tables adorned with silk runners and fresh floral centerpieces. The atmosphere exuded warmth, a blend of regal grandeur and familial comfort.
“Aadhriti, dear, come here,” my mother’s voice rang from near the buffet, drawing my attention.
“Yes, Mumma. Coming,” I responded, adjusting my dupatta as I made my way toward her.
With a gentle smile, my mother gestured toward the buffet tables. “Help the waiters serve the food to the guests.”
“Sure,” I nodded, rolling up my sleeves slightly before stepping forward to assist.
Tanya, my bestfriend and my to-be sister-in-law, lingered behind as Mom intended to introduce her to some guests who had arrived late.
Dropping my dupatta over one shoulder, I secured it around my waist on the other side, ensuring it wouldn't hinder my movements. Then, I carefully arranged bowls of sweets onto a large silver tray, their sugary aroma filling the air.
“Bhaiya, yeh le jaiye,” I said, handing a filled tray to one of the waiters, who gave a small nod before carrying it to the guests.
(Brother, take this.)
With practiced ease, I prepared two plates, filling them with fragrant rice, steaming curries, and soft rotis before placing them on another tray. Balancing it carefully, I made my way toward one of the tables where Rukmini Dadi was seated. She was the mother of Pradeep Uncle, my father’s trusted PA, and a respected elder in our family.
“Lijiye dadi, aunty, aap dono ka khana,” I said, setting the plates before her and her daughter-in-law, Megha Aunty.
(Here is your food grandmother, aunt)
Rukmini Dadi’s aged yet kind eyes crinkled as she reached out to caress my hair. “Arey, Aadhriti beta, tum kyun pareshan ho rahi ho? Yeh sab toh waiter bhi kar sakte hain.”
(Oh, Aadhriti dear, why are you troubling yourself? The servers could have done this.)
I pouted, leaning into her touch. “Bass, Dadi! Pehle beta kehti ho, phir mujhe aise bhi boldeti ho. Yeh toh galat baat hai.”
