Chapter 1 The beginning

The ringing of bells at the temple echoed through the stone walls as the morning aarti filled the air with sacred chants. The flickering oil lamps , and the scent of burning camphor mixed with fresh marigolds drifted through the temple. Devotees stood with folded hands, their eyes closed in devotion. Pandit ji (priest) stood near the main shrine, offering prayers. The murmur of Sanskrit verses flowed steadily from his lips as he carefully performed the rituals.

Just then, Arjun Raichand entered along with his family. His mother, Meera Raichand draped in a rich saree, walked towards the shrine, carrying a decorated puja thali. She smiled and extended the offering. Arjun, however, remained behind, standing with his arms crossed, his eyes scanning the temple with disinterest. He hadn’t even bothered to fold his hands in prayer. Religion, traditions, or rituals none of it had ever mattered to him.

His mother spoke first. “Panditji, please accept our offering.” Panditji looked at her, then at the thali, and slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid you must wait. The first puja on Mondays is always performed by the Rana family’s grandchildren.” A quiet tension settled over them. Arjun’s mother stiffened, a flicker of realization crossing her face. “Rana family…”

Before she could react, Arjun let out a sharp breath, irritation clear in his tone. “What does that even mean? We came first, yet you’re saying we can’t offer our prayers?”

Panditji remained calm. “It is not about who arrives first, beta. The Rana family’s descendants have performed the first puja every Monday for generations. It is their right and tradition.” Arjun scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “So, we have to wait just because of some outdated rule?”

Before Panditji could respond, A sudden hush fell over the temple as Vaishnavi Rana stepped in. She was dressed in a traditional half-saree, the deep red fabric draping elegantly over her frame. In her hands, she carried a puja thali, decorated with fresh flowers. Beside her stood Karthik her fiance, his tall, imposing frame radiating authority. His sharp gaze swept over the temple, as if ensuring no threat lurked in the shadows. Surya her friend, followed closely behind. Behind them, Vaishnavi’s grandfather entered, walking with quiet dignity. Their arrival spoke royalty.

Panditji’s face lit up. “Vaishnavi beti, you’re late today.”

Vaishnavi immediately folded her hands in apology. “Panditji, I am truly sorry for the delay.” Before he could say anything, she continued. “There is no excuse for making God wait.”

Panditji, however, smiled knowingly. “I know you would never be late without a reason.” He paused and then asked, “Where is Riyan?”

A softness crossed Vaishnavi’s face at the mention of her nephew. “He’s unwell today. He was crying and did not leave me and Karthik till now.”

Panditji nodded solemnly. “Don’t worry, child. I will offer a special prayer for him.”

She smiled gently, stepping forward to hand over her thali—when suddenly, a strong grip caught her wrist. A sharp gasp echoed through the temple.

She turned, startled and found a man of her age. Her brows furrowed in shock. “He dared to touch her? In front of her family? In front of everyone?”

Karthik’s entire posture tensed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. His voice was low, but it carried a lethal warning. “Leave her hand.”

Arjun didn’t react immediately. He met Vaishnavi’s eyes, then smirked as if amused by the outrage in the air. Instead of backing down, he slowly released her wrist and leaned back slightly. “So, even after coming late, you get to perform the first puja? Privilege must feel nice.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Vaishnavi stared at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Panditji sighed, stepping in before another argument could erupt. “They arrived before you, beti. They offered their thali first, but as per our tradition, the Rana family always performs the first puja on Mondays.” Vaishnavi took the words slowly, her face calm and unreadable.

Before she could respond, Arjun scoffed again. “Wow. No protest? No explanation? Just silence?” Before Vaishnavi could reply, Surya stepped forward, his face darkening. “Enough. Speak respectfully.” Arjun smirked but didn’t argue further. Instead, Vaishnavi turned—not to Arjun, but to his mother. With quiet grace, she folded her hands and said softly, “You should perform the puja first.”

A stunned silence filled the temple.

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