YOU NEVER WALK ALONE

73. Diwali pt.2

A long chapter, just as everyone wanted! 🥹 But please, if you feel like nothing much happened or the chapter was a little boring, it must be because of the huge gap between my updates. Even while writing it, I was honestly clueless and felt like I didn't know where the story was going. 😭 But I gave it my 100% to make it good and readable, so I really hope you all like it!

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Continuation...

AUTHOR'S POV-

During the late afternoon hours, the family slowly started moving again. The post-lunch laziness that had settled over the mansion began fading away, replaced by renewed enthusiasm as the most important part of the day's celebrations approached.

The first half of the day had been spent exactly the way festivals were meant to be spent, surrounded by family, endless food, laughter, and conversations that somehow jumped from one topic to another without making any sense. Now it was time for the final preparations before Lakshmi Puja.

Final touches of decorations, which only Sarakshi was taking seriously. Everyone else had no choice but to follow her instructions. Not before teasing her relentlessly, of course. Especially because she couldn't reach half the places she wanted to decorate by herself.

Every few minutes she would point somewhere high and someone else would have to place the item for her while enduring a lengthy explanation about why it had to be positioned exactly there and nowhere else.

The packets of rangoli colours, every shade imaginable were laid neatly on the outer stairs where the grand rangoli would be made. Trays overflowing with fresh flowers sat nearby, half reserved for rangoli and half for the evening offerings. Garlands of marigolds and roses for the puja, freshly prepared placed beside flowers in the puja room.

Those garlands held their own little story.

The flowers had arrived earlier that morning from Rajiv's younger brother's farm, and after lunch, Rajiv and Sarakshi had spent nearly an hour sitting together on the living room sofa carefully stringing them together. While their hands worked, conversations flowed effortlessly between them, ranging from old Diwali memories to Rajiv secretly revealing embarrassing stories about his sons.

Dozens upon dozens of diyas were arranged neatly on large brass thalis, waiting patiently for sunset when they would finally illuminate every corner of the estate.

Almost instantly, the peaceful atmosphere transformed into organized chaos.

Rashvik had always been in charge of the grand rangoli. It had become an unspoken tradition over the years. Every Diwali, the magnificent rangoli at the mansion's entrance was made by him. What had initially begun simply because there was nobody else to make one had eventually turned into genuine interest. Then that interest became a tradition. And over the years, his designs grew more elaborate, more detailed and more breathtaking. Everyone looked forward to seeing what he would create each year. And nobody dared interfere with his creative process.

Well.

Almost nobody.

This year was different. This year, Sarakshi had happily volunteered herself.

The moment rangoli preparations began, she was practically bouncing on her feet with excitement. It had been years since she had made a proper rangoli. A really big one. The last time she remembered creating one was when she was fifteen years old.

Now, after all these years, she was getting that opportunity again. And the excitement showed. In her smile. In her bright eyes. In the way she hovered around the rangoli colours like an excited child in a candy store.