Date: September 9, 2013
Location: The Deva Farmhouse, Shamshabad, Hyderabad
Event: Vinayaka Chavithi (Ganesh Chaturthi)
The heavy, humid monsoon air of Hyderabad had broken into a clear, beautiful evening. Across the city, the chaotic, joyous sounds of devotional songs, beating drums, and the occasional burst of firecrackers echoed through the streets as millions celebrated Vinayaka Chavithi, the festival of Lord Ganesha, the remover of obstacles.
But out in the quiet, sprawling expanse of the Shamshabad estate, the celebration was a much more intimate, grounded affair.
The Deva family had not skimped on the devotion. Under a massive, custom-built wooden mandap erected on the lush front lawn of the villa, a magnificent nine-foot-tall clay idol of Lord Ganesha sat in absolute splendor. The idol was painted in rich, eco-friendly earthy tones, draped in fresh silk, and entirely surrounded by hundreds of vibrant orange and yellow marigold garlands. The scent of burning camphor, sandalwood incense, and fresh mango leaves hung heavily in the evening air.
Siddanth stepped out onto the porch, adjusting the sleeves of his crisp, dark blue silk kurta.
He looked down the long, illuminated driveway as his car (he had sent his driver that morning) pulled through the main gates.
The car parked, and four girls spilled out, bringing an immediate wave of loud, chaotic energy to the quiet farmhouse. Krithika was dressed in a stunning, deep green and gold traditional half-saree that perfectly complemented her dark hair. Her younger sister, Anjali, hopped out next, holding a plastic bag full of colored powders.
Riya and Kavya, Krithika's best friends from college, climbed out of the back, looking around the massive, fortified estate with wide, entirely starstruck eyes.
"Okay, you didn't tell us he literally lived in a fortress," Riya whispered loudly, grabbing Krithika's arm as they walked up the driveway. "There are guards with earpieces at the gate. I feel like I'm walking into the Chief Minister's house."
"Just act normal, Riya. Please don't embarrass me," Krithika warned, though a fond smile was already forming on her lips as she looked up toward the porch.
Siddanth walked down the marble steps to greet them.
"Welcome," Siddanth smiled warmly, folding his hands in a polite namaste. "I'm glad you guys could make it."
"Happy Vinayaka Chavithi, Siddanth," Kavya squeaked, suddenly losing all her usual college-girl confidence when faced directly with the Vice-Captain of India wearing traditional silk instead of a cricket jersey.
"Happy Vinayaka Chavithi, Siddu," Krithika smiled, her eyes taking in the dark blue kurta that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. "Where is Aunty? She told me to bring the rangoli colors. She said the front porch looked too bare and needed some proper festive artwork."
"She's in the kitchen organizing the prasad," Siddanth said, gesturing to the wide, smooth marble expanse of the front porch leading up to the brilliantly lit mandap. "The canvas is all yours, Shorty."
For the next thirty minutes, Krithika, Anjali, and the twins took over the porch. They started chalking out a massive, intricate circular rangoli design.
Riya and Kavya were carefully filling in the outer petals with bright pink and yellow powders, while Krithika concentrated on the complex geometric lotus pattern in the dead center.
Siddanth stood nearby, leaning casually against a stone pillar with his arms crossed, watching them work.
"The left side is a bit off," Siddanth noted smoothly, pointing a finger at the center lotus Krithika was working on. "The angle of the petal is a little crooked compared to the right one. It's going to skew the whole circle when you try to close it."
Krithika stopped. She wiped a stray strand of hair from her forehead with the back of her wrist, accidentally leaving a faint streak of white chalk powder across her eyebrow. She glared up at him.
"I am an MBA student, not a civil engineer," Krithika huffed, brushing the powder off her hands. "If you think the angle is wrong, you fix it."
"Challenge accepted," Siddanth smirked.
He didn't hesitate. He stepped out of his leather sandals and walked to the center of the porch. He picked up a handful of fine white rangoli powder.
With smooth, unbroken, incredibly precise movements of his thumb and index finger, he dropped the white powder, drawing a series of flawless, interconnecting curves and sharp intersecting lines that perfectly mirrored the opposite side.
Riya and Kavya stopped what they were doing, staring in absolute disbelief at that as he casually executed a perfect rangoli design.
"Show-off," Krithika muttered, though a deeply affectionate smile betrayed her annoyance. She grabbed a handful of blue powder and started filling in the perfectly drawn lines.
Just then, a sleek black SUV pulled into the driveway. Arjun, Sameer, and Feroz stepped out, all dressed in varying styles of traditional kurtas.
Sameer stopped dead in his tracks. He pulled his smartphone out of his pocket and immediately began taking photos of the porch.
"Oh, this is going straight onto the internet," Sameer announced loudly, laughing as he walked up the steps. "The 'Devil'. The man who just told Rajat Sharma 'I only see the ball' on national television, sitting on the floor doing arts and crafts. Your ruthless fast-bowling reputation is officially ruined, Sid."
Arjun shook his head, grinning as he joined them. "I don't know, Sam. Look at the lines. It's aggressively precise. He's probably calculating the wind resistance of the rangoli powder to optimize the floral patterns."
Siddanth didn't even look up from his work. He calmly finished filling in a red petal, tapping the remaining powder from his fingers. "If you take another photo, Sameer, I am making you clean the estate swimming pool with a toothbrush tomorrow morning. Have some respect for the festival."
"Message received, boss," Sameer laughed, quickly putting his phone away, fully aware that Siddanth would actually enforce the threat. "Happy Vinayaka Chavithi, everyone."
As the sky darkened into a deep, velvety blue, the rangoli was finally completed. It was a massive, stunning burst of color sitting perfectly in front of the illuminated, nine-foot-tall Ganesha idol.
Sesikala Deva stepped out onto the porch, wiping her hands on her rich silk saree. She looked at the rangoli and beamed.
"Beautiful! Absolutely beautiful, girls," Sesikala praised warmly. "And Siddu, thank god you helped them, or Krithika would have made the lotus look like a crushed potato."
"Aunty!" Krithika gasped in mock offense, as Siddanth and the boys burst into loud laughter.
"Come, everyone. The poojari is here. It is time to start," Vikram Deva announced, stepping out of the house wearing a traditional white dhoti and a gold-bordered kanduva draped over his shoulder.
The atmosphere instantly shifted from playful banter to respectful reverence.
Chairs and woven mats were laid out on the lush lawn facing the mandap. Vikram and Sesikala took their places at the very front, sitting cross-legged before the holy fire. Siddanth sat respectfully just behind his parents.
Every single worker on the estate was invited to the front lawn. Malliah, Ramesh the groundskeeper, the maids, the cooks, and the entire security detail all stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Arjun, Sameer, Feroz, Krithika, and her friends.
The head poojari, an elderly man in a simple dhoti, began the pooja chants. The deep, rhythmic vibration of the mantras filled the cool evening air.
Siddanth closed his eyes, letting the scent of the camphor and the steady rhythm of the prayers wash over him.
As the pooja reached its crescendo, the time for the final maha aarti arrived. The ringing of the brass bells and the chanting grew louder and more urgent. Vikram and Sesikala stood up to offer the final prayers to the towering idol.
Sesikala took the heavy brass aarti plate, its camphor flames burning brightly, and circled it in front of the deity.
Traditionally, the aarti plate was passed to the eldest son next. Sesikala turned around, holding the brass plate out toward Siddanth.
But as Siddanth reached out to take it, Sesikala didn't let go immediately. Instead, she looked past her son and met Krithika's eyes in the crowd. With a warm, deeply affectionate smile, the matriarch of the Deva household reached out her free hand and gently but firmly pulled Krithika forward by the arm.
Krithika blinked, caught entirely off guard. She stumbled slightly forward, ending up standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Siddanth directly in front of the idol and the entire gathering.
"Hold it together," Sesikala instructed softly, her voice carrying an undeniable weight of familial acceptance.
It was an incredibly subtle, yet universally understood traditional gesture. In a South Indian household, asking a girl to hold the holy aarti alongside the son was the ultimate, unspoken confirmation of her place in the family. This was Sesikala's way of officially welcoming her.
Krithika's breath hitched. A deep, furious blush immediately rushed up her neck and coated her cheeks. She looked up at Siddanth, her dark eyes wide and shining with sudden, overwhelming emotion.
Siddanth offered her a small, incredibly tender smile. He adjusted his grip on the heavy brass plate, leaving enough room for her. Krithika nervously reached out, her smaller hands gently overlapping his as they held the burning aarti together, circling the flames in front of Lord Ganesha.
Standing a few feet away, Vikram Deva watched the young couple and smiled approvingly, his chest swelling with quiet, paternal pride.
And directly behind them, Anjali was smiling at the scene along with Krithika's friends.
Once the aarti was concluded and passed around to the rest of the gathering, the formal rites were officially over.
"Alright, everyone! Please sit! The prasad is coming!" Sesikala announced happily, her voice cutting through the lingering smoke of the incense.
The kitchen staff brought out massive silver vessels. Sesikala personally walked around, serving generous heaps of tangy, tamarind pulihora (tamarind rice), sweet kudumulu, and massive, ghee-laden modaks onto fresh banana leaves for everyone present.
Krithika, sitting on a woven mat between Anjali and Siddanth, took a bite of the pulihora and closed her eyes in sheer bliss, her earlier blush finally beginning to fade.
"Aunty's pulihora is the greatest thing in the world," Krithika mumbled happily. "I could eat this every single day."
"Careful, or she will literally pack you a lunchbox every morning before college," Siddanth chuckled, eating his own serving.
For the next hour, the group sat scattered across the lawn and the porch steps, eating the delicious food and talking. Riya and Kavya finally gathered the courage to ask Siddanth about the World Cup final in Wankhede. Siddanth patiently obliged, shedding his intimidating aura entirely and telling them funny stories from the World Cup campaign. The twins were utterly mesmerized, while Krithika just rolled her eyes affectionately at his storytelling.
By 9:30 PM, the food was finished, and the estate workers began to clear the banana leaves, heading back to their quarters for the night.
Siddanth checked his watch and stood up, dusting off his kurta. He looked around at his friends and Krithika.
"The night is still young," Siddanth announced, clapping his hands together. "Who wants to go see the big one?"
Sameer's eyes lit up immediately. "You mean Khairatabad?"
"Khairatabad," Siddanth confirmed with a grin.
For anyone living in Hyderabad, the Khairatabad Ganesh was legendary. It was an annual tradition to build the tallest, most magnificent clay idol in the state, often reaching heights of over fifty feet. This year, it was said to be 59 feet. Visiting the idol during the festival nights was a quintessential, unavoidable Hyderabadi experience.
"Are you sure, Sid?" Arjun asked. "It's the first day of the festival. There are going to be fifty thousand people jammed into that junction. If they recognize you, there will be a stampede. You literally trended globally two days ago."
"I have a surgical mask and a cap in the car. It'll be fine," Siddanth dismissed casually. "Rahul can drive the security SUV behind us just in case. Let's go."
"I am definitely not missing this," Krithika smiled, standing up and pulling Anjali with her.
They decided to condense the convoy. Siddanth walked over to the garage and unlocked Sameer's SUV. It had three rows of seating, perfect for a large group.
Krithika immediately claimed the passenger seat next to Siddanth. Anjali, the twins, Sameer, Feroz, and Arjun piled into the spacious back rows.
Siddanth started the engine. He rolled the windows down slightly, allowing the festive sounds of the city to filter into the cabin, and merged onto the highway toward the heart of Hyderabad.
The drive into the city was an absolute crawl. As they approached the Khairatabad junction, the traffic ground to a complete, chaotic halt. The streets were illuminated by thousands of fairy lights. Massive speakers blared devotional songs, and the smell of street food, incense, and exhaust fumes was overpowering.
Siddanth navigated the heavy SUV with practiced patience, eventually finding a semi-clear parking spot in a dusty side alley nearly a kilometer away from the actual mandap. Rahul (his assistant) and two security guards parked their vehicle directly behind them, stepping out quietly to shadow the group.
"Alright, keep your heads down, stay together," Siddanth instructed as they piled out of the car. He pulled a black surgical mask over his mouth and nose, and pulled a plain black baseball cap low over his eyes. In his dark kurta, he blended into the festive night reasonably well.
The walk toward the Khairatabad mandap was a sensory overload. The crowd was a massive, undulating ocean of humanity. Families, teenagers, and devotees pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, moving slowly toward the blindingly bright lights of the main installation.
Siddanth walked slightly ahead, using his broad shoulders to effortlessly carve a path through the dense crowd, keeping Krithika tucked safely behind him.
As they finally rounded the final corner, the structure came into full view.
Riya and Kavya actually gasped out loud. Even Krithika, who had seen it on television countless times, stopped in her tracks.
The Khairatabad Ganesh was staggering. Towering at nearly fifty-nine feet, the idol was a breathtaking masterpiece of artistry and devotion. It was illuminated by massive stadium-grade floodlights. In the deity's massive hand rested the legendary Maha Laddu, a colossal sweet weighing several thousand kilograms. The sheer scale of the idol made the surrounding multi-story buildings look insignificant.
"It gets bigger every year," Arjun muttered in awe, looking up at the colossal clay structure.
They stood near the heavy police barricades, watching the spectacle from a slight distance, absorbed in the crowd.
But A young man standing a few feet away kept glancing at Siddanth. He looked at the height, the build, and the distinct shape of the beard visible just above the surgical mask.
"Anna..." the young man whispered loudly, tapping his friend's shoulder and pointing directly at Siddanth. "Deva bhaiyya?"
The whisper spread through the immediate vicinity like wildfire. Heads began to turn. The murmurs grew louder.
Siddanth realized the stealth mission was compromised. He let out a soft sigh and pulled his mask down to his chin, offering a polite, resigned smile to the people staring at him.
The reaction was instantaneous.
"DEVAAAAA!" a group of college boys roared from behind the barricades.
The crowd immediately surged, cell phones snapping up into the air, flashes blinding the night. The heavy, suffocating pressure of his fame instantly materialized. Rahul and the two plainclothes security guards immediately stepped forward, forming a tight physical triangle around Siddanth, Krithika, and the rest of the group to prevent them from being crushed by the excited mob.
The sudden commotion caught the attention of the Khairatabad Ganesh Utsav Committee members, who were managing the VIP lines near the base of the idol.
A senior committee member, wearing a white kurta and a laminated badge, looked over the sea of heads. When he realized who was causing the stampede, his eyes went wide.
He frantically grabbed his walkie-talkie, yelling instructions to the local police officers managing the barricades.
"Siddanth Deva! Siddanth Deva has come!" the committee member shouted, rushing forward with four police constables.
The police actively parted the massive crowd, blowing whistles and creating a narrow, secure human corridor. The committee member reached Siddanth, folding his hands in a deep, respectful namaste.
"Siddanth sir! It is our absolute honor to have you here!" the man beamed, his face flushed with excitement. "Please, sir. Do not stand in the public crowd. Come inside the main barricades! Bring your family and friends!"
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it," Siddanth smiled warmly, grabbing Krithika's hand to ensure she wasn't separated in the chaos, and gesturing for Arjun and the others to follow.
The police escorted them straight through the gates, bypassing a line of thousands of waiting devotees, and led them directly to the base of the towering, fifty-nine-foot idol. Standing directly underneath it, the sheer magnitude of the statue was dizzying.
The head priest of the mandap, a revered figure adorned in heavy garlands, walked down the steps of the main platform to greet them.
"Welcome," the head priest smiled, raising his hand in blessing. He turned to his assistants. "Bring the aarti."
The priest performed a special, personalized archana (prayer) right there at the base of the idol, chanting the sacred mantras specifically in the names of the Deva family. As the prayer concluded, the priest applied a bright red tilak to Siddanth's forehead, followed by Krithika and the rest of his friends.
A committee member hurried over, carrying a large, heavy silver bowl filled with pieces of the sacred Maha Laddu, and handed it to Siddanth.
"Prasad, sir. Directly from the main offering," the member smiled proudly.
"Thank you so much," Siddanth said, deeply touched by the overwhelming hospitality. He handed the bowl to Krithika to hold.
He looked around at the towering idol, the bright lights, and his friends standing safely inside the barricades. He wanted to document this. Not for Vibe, not for the media, but for himself.
Siddanth turned to one of the younger committee members holding a DSLR camera.
"Excuse me, brother," Siddanth asked politely. "Could you do me a favor and take a picture of all of us?"
"Of course, Deva sir! Absolutely!" the photographer agreed instantly, lifting his camera.
Siddanth quickly ushered his friends together. Anjali, Riya, and Kavya crowded around them on the left, while Arjun, Sameer, and Feroz flanked them on the right.
Behind them, the magnificent, illuminated Ganesha provided the ultimate, breathtaking backdrop.
"Smile!" the photographer called out.
Click. Click.
Siddanth thanked the photographer, asking him to send the photos to Arjun's email address later.
Realizing the immense favor the committee had just done for them by saving them from the mob, Siddanth didn't rush off. For the next twenty minutes, he stood patiently near the barricades. He shook hands with every single committee member, posed for dozens of selfies, signed autographs on the backs of mobile phones, and spoke politely to the local police officers who had escorted them.
He carried the burden of his fame with effortless, uncomplaining grace, ensuring that the people who hosted him felt truly appreciated.
Finally, around midnight, Siddanth politely excused himself. The police escorted the group back through a secondary, less crowded exit, leading them safely back to the dusty alley where the SUV was parked.
As they piled into the SUV, the sheer exhaustion of the long, eventful day finally hit the group.
The drive back was much quieter. Sameer and Feroz were half-asleep in the third row. Anjali and the twins were scrolling through the blurry photos they had managed to take on their phones in the backseat.
Siddanth navigated the empty midnight streets of Hyderabad, the city slowly winding down from the festive high. He merged onto the Tarnaka route first, pulling up to the quiet residential lane to drop the girls off.
Riya, Kavya, and Anjali tumbled out of the backseat, exhausted but incredibly happy, profusely thanking Siddanth for the VIP experience at Khairatabad. They waved and walked toward their respective gates.
Krithika lingered for a moment in the passenger seat. The street was dark and quiet, illuminated only by the soft glow of the dashboard lights.
She turned to look at him.
"Did you have a good time?" Siddanth asked softly, his voice a low, warm rumble in the quiet car.
"I did," Krithika smiled sincerely, reaching over to gently trace the edge of his jaw. "The pooja at your house was beautiful. Your mom is amazing for... for what she did with the aarti. And getting VIP treatment at Khairatabad wasn't terrible either. Though I think Riya is going to talk about this night for the next ten years."
Siddanth chuckled softly, leaning his cheek into her touch. "I'm glad you came."
Krithika leaned across the wide center console. She didn't care that Arjun was pretending to be asleep in the back seat. She placed a soft, lingering kiss on Siddanth's lips, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.
"Goodnight, Mama's Boy," Krithika whispered against his lips, pulling back slowly.
"Goodnight, Krithi," Siddanth smiled, his eyes warm and bright in the dim light.
She opened the door, stepped out into the cool night air, and walked toward her house. Siddanth kept the engine idling, watching her until she safely locked her front gate and disappeared inside.
Only then did he put the heavy SUV into gear and pull away from the curb, heading back toward the Shamshabad highway.
---
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