Date: September 20, 2013
Location: Outskirts of Shamshabad, Hyderabad
The dusty silver Maruti Swift crawled along the empty, unpaved layout road on the outskirts of Shamshabad. Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was a mix of intense concentration and quiet encouragement.
Krithika was sitting in the driver's seat. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel at a strict ten-and-two position, her knuckles only slightly white today. Her eyes were fixed dead ahead on the dirt path.
"Alright, there is a slight bump coming up," Siddanth instructed calmly from the passenger seat, his arm resting casually on the window ledge. "Don't panic. Just ease off the gas. Let the car slow down naturally."
Krithika took a deep breath, lifting her right foot slightly. The Swift decelerated as it approached the uneven mound of dirt.
"Now, clutch in," Siddanth said.
Krithika pressed the left pedal all the way to the floorboard. The car glided smoothly over the bump without stalling or jerking violently.
"Perfect," Siddanth smiled, genuinely impressed. "Now, drop it down to second gear, find the bite point, and give it a little gas to pick the speed back up."
Krithika grabbed the gear stick. She didn't look down. She trusted her newfound muscle memory, pulling the stick firmly out of third and slotting it smoothly into second. There was no horrifying grinding noise. She slowly let the clutch out while pressing the accelerator. The engine hummed happily, and the car surged forward with a seamless transition.
"I did it," Krithika exhaled, a massive, triumphant smile breaking across her face. She relaxed her grip on the steering wheel slightly. "Did you see that? It was completely smooth!"
"I saw it, Shorty," Siddanth chuckled, incredibly proud of her progress. "You are definitely getting the hang of the third pedal. A few more lessons and you won't even have to think about it anymore."
They drove down the layout for another twenty minutes, practicing basic turns and controlled stops. Krithika only stalled the car once when a stray dog darted out of the bushes, forcing her to hit the brakes suddenly, but she quickly recovered, restarting the engine without throwing a tantrum.
As the afternoon sun began to dip, casting long shadows across the fields, Siddanth pointed to the side of the road.
"Pull over here," Siddanth instructed. "Put it in neutral and pull the handbrake. That's enough for today. Your left leg is probably exhausted."
Krithika dutifully executed the parking sequence, turning the key to kill the engine. She let out a long, heavy sigh, stretching her arms above her head.
"My leg is definitely shaking," she admitted with a tired laugh, unbuckling her seatbelt. "But it feels good. I actually feel like I am in control of it now, instead of the machine controlling me."
"You are," Siddanth agreed, opening his door. "Let's swap seats. I'll drive us back."
Krithika climbed out into the warm evening air, walking around the front of the hood to slide into the passenger seat while Siddanth took over the wheel. He adjusted the seat backward, turned the key, and smoothly navigated the Swift out of the dirt roads and back onto the paved highway.
For the first ten minutes, the drive was incredibly relaxing. The radio played softly in the background. Krithika leaned her head against the window, watching the trees blur past, chatting happily about the upcoming exams and how much Ronny the puppy was shedding all over her bedroom floor.
Siddanth listened to her, nodding and offering an occasional joke, driving with effortless ease.
As the car merged onto the familiar intersection, Krithika glanced at the road signs and tilted her head.
"Wait a second," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "You missed the turn."
Siddanth didn't even blink. "Yeah."
"...Yeah?" she repeated, turning toward him.
"We're going to the farmhouse," he said casually, one hand resting on the steering wheel.
"Oh." Krithika leaned back into her seat, completely relaxed. "Okay."
Siddanth shot her a sideways look. "That's it?"
"What?" she shrugged. "Should I scream? Panic? Jump out of the car?"
"I was expecting at least a little drama," he admitted.
"Disappointed?" she smirked.
"Very."
Krithika grinned, stretching her arms slightly. "You should've told me earlier. I would've called Aunty and requested ginger tea."
"She's probably already made it."
"Good," she nodded approvingly. "Because I'm not sharing with you."
"Excuse me?" Siddanth scoffed. "It's my house."
"And yet," she said sweetly, "I'm the favorite."
"Delusional."
"Ask your mother."
"I don't need to. I already know the answer."
"Exactly," she said smugly.
Siddanth shook his head, but the smile tugging at his lips didn't leave.
AT THE FARMHOUSE
The car rolled to a stop in front of the villa.
Before Siddanth could even turn off the engine—
Click.
Krithika had already unbuckled her seatbelt.
"Race you," she said, opening the door.
"You're kidding—"
She was already out.
"Hey!" Siddanth laughed, quickly stepping out and locking the car.
Krithika had reached the door first, slipping off her shoes.
She pushed the door open and walked in like she owned the place.
Krithika walked straight into the kitchen, already talking.
"Aunty, I'm here and I—oh."
She stopped for half a second.
Vikram was standing near the island, tea in hand.
"Hello, Uncle," she said immediately, recovering with a relaxed smile.
Vikram looked up, raising an eyebrow slightly.
"Ah," he said. "The driver returns."
Krithika snorted. "Driver in training, Uncle. Don't promote me too fast."
"How many times did the car stall today?" he asked calmly.
"Once," she said proudly.
"Twice," Siddanth's voice came from behind.
Krithika spun around. "That dog does not count!"
"It absolutely counts."
"It attacked me!"
"It ran across the road."
"Exactly! Psychological attack."
Vikram took a slow sip of his tea, clearly entertained.
"So," he said, looking at Siddanth, "you're blaming stray animals now?"
"I'm blaming her driving," Siddanth replied.
"I'm standing right here!" Krithika protested.
"And yet the truth must be spoken."
"Traitor."
"Student."
"Dictator."
"Bad driver."
"Okay, that's it—Aunty!" Krithika called dramatically. "Control your son!"
Sesikala turned from the stove, already smiling.
"It has been two minutes since you entered the house and you both start fighting?" she said.
"He started it," Krithika said instantly.
"She stalled the car," Siddanth countered.
"I improved!" she argued.
"From what?"
"From worse!"
Sesikala laughed, shaking her head as she poured tea into cups.
"Enough, both of you. Come here."
Krithika walked over immediately, accepting the cup with both hands.
"Thank you, Aunty."
"You didn't even offer me tea," Siddanth said, offended.
"I made it for guests," Sesikala replied calmly.
Krithika choked on her tea trying not to laugh.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered loudly. "Guests."
"I live here," Siddanth said flatly.
"Not emotionally," Krithika shot back.
Vikram coughed lightly into his cup, hiding a smile.
Krithika leaned against the counter, sipping her tea.
"Mmm," she hummed. "Perfect. This is exactly what I wanted."
"I knew it," Siddanth said. "You only come here for the food."
"And the tea," she added.
"And the complaints," he muttered.
"And Aunty," she said immediately.
Sesikala smiled warmly.
"And Uncle," Krithika added, glancing at Vikram.
Vikram raised an eyebrow. "I'm last on the list?"
"You're the bonus," she said smoothly.
"Hmm," he nodded. "Acceptable."
The conversation flowed easily after that.
Just casual chatter, small arguments, and familiar comfort.
Siddanth eventually slid into his usual seat beside her.
"Next lesson tomorrow?" he asked.
Krithika groaned. "My leg is still recovering from today."
"Excuses."
"Pain."
"Drama."
"Oppression."
"You're impossible."
"And yet," she smiled, taking another sip of tea, "you keep teaching me."
Siddanth leaned back slightly, watching her.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I do."
---
"Siddu," Sesikala started, her tone shifting slightly. "Is your schedule free for the next few days? Are there any sudden commercial shoots or business meetings you have to attend?"
Siddanth took a sip of his tea, mentally running through his upcoming calendar. "My schedule is completely free until October 2nd, Amma. Why? What's going on?"
"I want to go to Tirupati," Sesikala announced firmly.
Siddanth paused, setting his cup down. Tirupati was a massive, highly revered temple town in Andhra Pradesh. Visiting the Sri Venkateswara Temple was a spiritual journey, and organizing a trip there usually required significant logistical planning.
"You want to go for a darshan?" Siddanth asked. "We haven't been there as a family in a long time. I think it was before I won ODI World Cup."
"Yes," Sesikala nodded. "We have so much to be thankful for this year. Your health is good, the company is doing well. We need to go and offer our prayers. And this time, we are not taking the VIP car route up the ghat road. We are going to climb the Tirumala hill by the Alipiri steps. On foot. We need to offer our prayers properly with some effort."
Siddanth raised an eyebrow at the prospect of the physically demanding 3,550-step traditional climb, but he nodded easily. "Consider it done, Amma. I'll have Rahul handle the logistics tomorrow morning so we get a smooth entry."
Sesikala smiled, satisfied with the quick arrangement. She then turned her gaze to Krithika, who was quietly sipping her tea.
"Krithika," Sesikala asked warmly. "Would you also like to come with us to Tirupati?"
Krithika nearly choked on her hot tea. She quickly swallowed, coughing slightly, and set her cup down on the granite counter in a panic.
"Oh! No, Aunty, no," Krithika stammered quickly, waving her hands in polite but firm refusal. "Thank you so much for the invitation, but I cannot come."
Sesikala frowned slightly, looking confused. "Why not, child? It will be a very peaceful trip."
Krithika looked down at her hands, suddenly feeling a deep, uncomfortable wave of guilt.
"It's not about the travel, Aunty," Krithika explained softly, her voice filled with genuine regret. "My parents... they will not allow me to go on a trip out of the city like that. And more importantly... they still do not know about our relationship. They don't know that Siddanth and I are together."
Sesikala went completely silent. She looked at Krithika, and then shifted her gaze to Siddanth, who simply nodded in confirmation.
The matriarch of the Deva household let out a slow, measured breath. She didn't look angry, but her expression turned incredibly serious, adopting a tone of profound, maternal wisdom.
She walked around the island and stood directly in front of Krithika.
"Krithika, child," Sesikala said gently, placing a comforting hand over the young girl's nervous fingers. "I understand that you both wanted privacy. I understand why you kept it a secret in the beginning. But you cannot hide this forever."
Krithika bit her lip, looking down. "I know, Aunty."
"It is always better if parents hear the truth directly from their children," Sesikala advised, her voice firm and practical. "If you keep it a secret, and they find out from some other way—if a neighbor sees you two together, or if a relative reads some gossip on the internet—they will feel deeply hurt. They will feel betrayed that you did not trust them enough to tell them yourself."
Krithika nodded slowly, the truth of Sesikala's words hitting her hard. She had been living in a bubble of blissful ignorance, enjoying her time with Siddanth without dealing with the inevitable real-world consequences of her conservative, middle-class family finding out exactly who she was dating.
"You are right, Aunty," Krithika agreed quietly, finding her resolve. "I will try and tell them as soon as possible."
Sesikala smiled, proud of the girl's courage. She gently squeezed Krithika's hand before turning to look sharply at her son.
"And when she reveals this to her parents," Sesikala instructed, her voice turning into an absolute command directed solely at Siddanth, "make sure you are standing right there with her, Siddu. Do not let her face them alone. You must take the responsibility."
Siddanth didn't hesitate for a single second. The protective, unwavering core of his personality instantly surfaced.
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Amma," Siddanth stated, his deep voice ringing with absolute certainty. He looked directly at Krithika, offering a calm, incredibly reassuring presence. "I will come to Tarnaka when you are ready to tell them, Krithi. I will be right next to you, and I will talk with your parents if necessary."
Krithika looked into his dark eyes, the anxiety and fear about the impending conversation instantly halving. Knowing he would be there, standing like a wall beside her, gave her immense courage.
"Okay," Krithika breathed out, a small, grateful smile touching her lips. "We'll do it."
The heavy, serious topic was successfully resolved, and the atmosphere in the kitchen smoothly transitioned back into lighthearted, domestic warmth.
Sesikala turned her attention back to the stove, finishing up the lunch preparations while Siddanth and Krithika sat at the island, drinking their tea and talking about the mundane, everyday details of their lives.
An hour later, Vikram returned from the patio, and the four of them sat down at the large wooden dining table for lunch.
The meal was a comfortable, joyous affair. Vikram asked Krithika about her college, completely treating her like a welcomed member of the family rather than a stranger or a secret girlfriend.
As Sesikala set the main serving bowl of spicy mutton curry in the center of the table, both Siddanth and Krithika spotted it simultaneously: the absolute perfect, marrow-filled bone-in piece of mutton resting right on top.
Without a word, both of them reached their spoons out at the exact same millisecond. Their spoons clashed over the bowl with a loud clink. A silent, intense tug-of-war ensued, their eyes locked in fierce competition over the prized piece of meat.
Siddanth raised an eyebrow, silently challenging her. Krithika narrowed her eyes, gripping her spoon tighter, absolutely refusing to back down.
After a tense five seconds, Siddanth let out a soft, defeated sigh. He yielded, pulling his spoon back and letting her scoop the coveted piece onto her plate. Krithika flashed him a smug, victorious grin.
Vikram watched the entire exchange from across the table, highly amused. Sesikala just rolled her eyes, piling extra servings of hot rice onto Krithika's plate, completely ignoring her polite protests that she was already full.
By late afternoon, the sun had begun to set, casting a golden hue over the estate.
"I should get going, Aunty," Krithika said, standing up from the sofa after helping clear the dining table. "I have to take Ronny for his evening walk, or he's going to destroy the living room carpet."
"Go safely, child," Sesikala smiled, walking her to the front door. "And think about what I said. Don't be afraid."
"I will, Aunty. Thank you for the lunch. Bye, Uncle!" Krithika called out to Vikram.
"Goodbye, Krithika. Drive safely, Siddu," Vikram replied from his armchair.
Siddanth grabbed the keys to the Swift and walked out with her. They climbed into the car, and Siddanth navigated down the long gravel driveway, the heavy iron gates closing behind them as they merged onto the highway.
The drive back to Tarnaka was peaceful. The earlier panic that had gripped Krithika had entirely vanished, replaced by a deep, anchoring sense of comfort. She leaned her head against the window, watching the city lights flicker to life.
Siddanth pulled the car up to the quiet residential lane near her house, parking in their usual spot beneath the streetlight. He shifted the car into neutral and pulled the handbrake.
Krithika unbuckled her seatbelt. She turned to look at him.
"Your parents are amazing," Krithika said softly, a genuine smile on her face. "I was terrified for absolutely no reason."
"I told you," Siddanth chuckled, resting his arm on the steering wheel. "You panic over nothing."
"I don't panic over nothing," Krithika defended herself playfully, lightly punching his shoulder. "It is a perfectly normal reaction to meeting the parents of the guy you are dating. You wouldn't understand because you literally never panic about anything."
Siddanth smiled, reaching over and gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered softly against her cheek.
"So," Siddanth asked, his voice dropping into a warm, quiet register. "When are we doing this? When are we telling your parents?"
Krithika leaned into his touch slightly, letting out a slow, anxious breath.
"I still want some time, Siddu," Krithika admitted softly, looking him directly in the eyes. "I know what Aunty said is right, but I'm just not ready yet. We will reveal it to them when you get your next rest from the Indian team."
Siddanth nodded, offering a firm, reassuring smile. "Whenever you are ready, Krithi. We'll wait for my next break."
"Thank you," Krithika smiled, leaning across the center console to place a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. "Goodnight, Siddu."
"Goodnight, Krithi."
She opened the door and stepped out into the cool evening air. Siddanth kept the engine idling, watching her walk down the street until she safely unlatched her front gate and disappeared inside her home.
He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb, heading back toward Shamshabad. He had built massive corporate empires and navigated billion-dollar deals, but walking into a middle-class living room to ask a father for his daughter's hand was a completely different battlefield.
And Siddanth Deva was ready for it, whenever she was.