The courtyard shimmered in the golden glow of the late afternoon. Mani approached Laya, heart pounding, as the breeze whispered through the trees. Every step she took seemed to cast spells, every glance pulled him deeper into a world of wonder.
"Come on, come on, Laya
You are my only destiny
Come on, come on, Laya
Without you, I am lost."
Krishna and Gajanan, seeing Mani so entranced, tried to imitate his awe, flopping dramatically on the ground and pretending to be spellbound. Bharath spun around, scattering petals, while Sunitha and Monal waved ribbons in the air, creating a magical whirlwind around them.
"What eyes you have, Laya?
You have cast me in a spell!
Are those locks of hair, Laya?
They are pricking me without relief."
Mani's hands moved instinctively, tying an imaginary sacred thread to her wrist — a playful, yet heartfelt gesture. Even Ashik and Hari joined in, pretending to chant blessings, while Akshara, Pooja, and Anasuya tossed flower petals like confetti.
"This sacred thread is tied to you, my life's purpose and meaning.
I bind it to you, my beloved, wishing for your long life of a hundred years."
Laya twirled, laughing, her hair catching the sunlight, while Mani felt a surge of devotion and admiration. Every flutter, every step she took, was like a butterfly landing on his heart, leaving sparks of wonder in its wake.
"Hundred, thousand or a lakh
Lightnings jumped on me
What's this magic…?
Coming closer, step by step, did you flutter like a butterfly?
I have been completely captivated by your charm."
Even amidst the playful chaos, Mani felt the weight of destiny — his heart tied to hers, his soul aligned with her energy. Krishna clapped rhythmically, Gajanan did exaggerated slow-motion leaps, and Bharath mimicked shooting arrows of love toward Laya, adding humor and charm to the magical moment.
"I am not used to all these
Why such hesitation for me at all?
My heart is almost feeling different
The strings beckoned me to get attached to you."
Mani's voice grew soft but fervent, every word carrying longing:
"I want to live like you,
I want to dream like you,
I want to be your story.
I want to walk in your footsteps,
I want to stand by your truth,
I want to breathe your air."
Laya paused, her eyes glimmering with warmth, as the courtyard — friends, petals, ribbons, playful chaos — seemed to pause too. Every glance, every breath, every playful cheer became part of a sacred, magical rhythm, binding them together.
"Show me the unknown me,
Make me feel like I was born for you,
Embrace me with your love."
"Your happiness is mine,
You make me forget my name,
You make me feel like I'm you."
"I want to live like you,
I want to dream like you,
I want to be your story."
The friends around them — Tamil and Telugu alike — continued their playful antics, petals swirling in the air, laughter mingling with the breeze, but Mani and Laya were in their own universe. The courtyard had transformed into a stage for destiny, love, and magic, every heartbeat echoing the rhythm of their shared story.