The boys walked down from the wooden stage, retreating toward the heavy wooden bar. The Sangeet had fully transitioned into an unstructured party.
Anjali stood near the edge of the stage. She looked at her sister, Krithika, and then pointed directly at the front row of velvet sofas.
"The boys had their turn," Anjali announced, grabbing a wireless microphone from the DJ's table. "Now it is time for the women to show them how to actually hold a rhythm."
Anjali walked down the short wooden stairs. Priya, Kavya, Riya, and Sneha followed her closely. They moved as a coordinated unit toward the front row where the elder women of both families were sitting.
Sesikala saw Anjali approaching. She immediately shook her head and held both her hands up. "No. Absolutely not. My knees are already hurting from sitting."
"Athamma, please," Anjali said, stepping right in front of Sesikala. "You have to come. Just for one song."
"I do not dance," Sesikala stated firmly.
Krithika's mother, Suma, attempted to stand up and walk away, but Kavya and Riya physically blocked her path.
"Aunty, don't try to escape," Kavya laughed, grabbing Suma's right arm.
"I am wearing a heavy Kanjeevaram silk saree," Suma protested, trying to pull her arm back. "I cannot step up on that stage."
"We will help you," Priya offered, taking Suma's left arm.
Anjali leaned down and grabbed Sesikala's hands. She pulled gently but firmly. Sesikala sighed, realizing resistance would just cause a scene. She stood up. Once Sesikala yielded, Krithika's Peddamma, Pinni, and Athamma also stood up, adjusting their heavy sarees and gold jewelry.
The younger girls escorted the five older women up the wooden stairs and led them to the center of the stage. The women stood there awkwardly, looking out at the crowd.
Anjali turned to the DJ. "Folk beats. Keep the tempo manageable."
The DJ nodded. He pushed a fader up, and a traditional, rhythmic Telangana folk song filled the courtyard. It was not the heavy, aggressive cinematic beat from earlier, but a steady, melodic rhythm driven by a light Dappu drum.
Sesikala stood completely still. Suma looked at the floor.
"Look at my feet," Anjali instructed loudly over the music. She stepped to the right, tapped her left foot, clapped her hands once, and stepped to the left. "Step, tap, clap. Step, tap, clap. That is it."
Priya and Kavya stood beside the older aunts, physically guiding their arms and demonstrating the simple, repetitive movements.
It took thirty seconds for the women to catch the rhythm. Suma was the first to start moving her feet in time with the drum beat. She clapped her hands, smiling hesitantly. Sesikala watched her, then sighed, and joined in.
Once they started, they did not stop. The younger girls formed a wide circle around them, clapping and cheering. The traditional steps came back to the older women naturally. They moved side-to-side, their heavy silk sarees swaying with the rhythm. They did not attempt any jumps or fast spins, sticking entirely to the steady, ground movements.
They danced for three consecutive songs. By the end of the third track, Sesikala was breathing heavily, and Suma was wiping sweat from her forehead with the edge of her pallu.
"Enough," Sesikala declared, holding her hand up to the DJ. "Stop the music. I need water."
The DJ faded the track. The crowd clapped politely as the women carefully walked down the wooden stairs, aided by the younger girls, and returned to their sofas.
Sameer, who was standing near the bar holding a fresh drink, watched the women sit down. He set his glass down on the wooden counter with a loud thud.
"The women showed up," Sameer announced to Feroz and Arjun. "The men must answer."
Sameer walked with a fast stride toward the opposite side of the courtyard, where the older men were sitting in a quiet circle. He stopped directly in front of Siddanth's father, Vikram Deva, and Krithika's father, Subba Rao.
"Uncle," Sameer said playfully. "Your wives just danced for ten minutes. It is your turn."
Subba Rao laughed. "My knees hurt, Sameer. I cannot dance."
"Today you do, Mamayya" Deva said, walking up behind Sameer. Deva grinned, reaching out and gently grabbing Subba Rao's elbow. "Come on, Mamayya. Just one track."
Vikram Deva laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. He placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself up. "Come on, Subba Rao garu. If we do not go up there, they will carry us."
Subba Rao yielded, smiling. Krithika's uncles and Siddanth's extended male relatives also stood up. Deva herded the group of ten older men toward the wooden stage.
Subba Rao walked up the stairs reluctantly. Vikram Deva stood in the center, adjusting the collar of his white kurta.
Sameer looked at DJ. "Pedda Puli."
DJ tapped a button on his laptop. The massive, high-energy, aggressive drum beat of the famous folk song "Pedda Puli" blasted through the speakers.
"Claws out, uncles!" Sameer yelled.
Sameer crouched low to the ground. He brought his hands up near his face, curving his fingers like tiger claws. He jumped forward on his left foot, shifting his shoulders aggressively.
Deva stepped into the formation alongside Sameer. He dropped into the low stance, bringing his hands up, and executed the aggressive "Pedda Puli" steps matching the heavy drum hits exactly.
Vikram Deva crouched down and mirrored Deva's aggressive steps. The other uncles followed suit. Subba Rao mostly shuffled his feet side-to-side, looking completely out of place but laughing loudly.
The physical exertion required for the steps was immense. After two minutes, Vikram Deva stood up straight, panting heavily. "My spine is done," Vikram announced over the loud music.
The uncles immediately abandoned the formation, rubbing their knees, and walked straight to the catering tent to find cold water.
Virat Kohli watched the uncles retreat. "Our turn," Virat said to the group standing at the bar. He reached out and grabbed Yuvraj Singh by the shoulder. "Let's go."
Virat spotted M.S. Dhoni standing near a stone pillar, quietly talking to Sakshi. Virat walked over, put his arm around Dhoni's shoulder, and urged the former captain toward the stairs.
"I am just going to stand there, Virat," Dhoni warned him calmly.
"Just stand in the center," Virat agreed.
Anirudh who tookover the DJ switched to a fast-paced Bollywood dance track. Harbhajan immediately launched into a high-energy Bhangra routine. Yuvraj joined him. Virat started doing a modern hip-hop routine.
Dhoni stood directly in the center of the stage. He placed his hands in his pockets. He simply swayed his shoulders slightly, smiling as he watched Harbhajan jump around him.
Deva walked up the stairs. He saw Dhoni refusing to dance. Deva grinned. He didn't argue with Dhoni. Instead, Deva turned around, walked directly over to the VIP sofas, and offered his hand to Sakshi.
"Sakshi bhabhi, may I have this dance?" Deva asked loudly over the music.
Sakshi laughed, realizing exactly what Deva was doing. She took his hand and let him lead her onto the stage. Anirudh quickly cross-faded the track into a popular, romantic Bollywood duet.
Deva placed his hand lightly on Sakshi's waist and led her into a flawless, perfectly timed ballroom box step.
Dhoni, standing in the center of the stage with his hands in his pockets, watched his wife dancing with Deva. He sighed, shaking his head with a small smile.
Dhoni pulled his hands out of his pockets. He walked over, tapped Deva on the shoulder, and playfully pushed him aside. Dhoni took Sakshi's hands, finally giving in, and started dancing with his wife to the duet. Everyone cheered loudly.
Deva laughed and walked over to the side of the stage. He looked toward the front row. The older generation of cricketers, the legends who had retired, were still sitting comfortably, watching the younger boys sweat.
Deva walked away from the stage and headed directly toward the VIP sofas. He stopped in front of Sachin Tendulkar.
"Sachin paji," Deva said, offering a warm smile. "The stage."
Sachin looked up, surprised. He smiled and shook his head. "No, Sid. Let the current squad enjoy it. I will just watch."
"We need the seniors to show them how it is done, Paaji," Deva urged jovially. He gently took Sachin's arm and pulled him up. Sachin laughed, unable to resist Deva's enthusiasm.
Deva turned to Virender Sehwag. "Viru paji?"
Sehwag stood up voluntarily, adjusting his kurta. "I do not need to be pulled, Siddu. Let's go."
Deva then looked at Rahul Dravid. Dravid was sitting with his arms crossed, his face completely serious.
"Rahul bhai," Deva said.
"Absolutely not, Sid," Dravid stated instantly. "I do not dance."
"Come on, Rahul bhai, it is a celebration," Deva insisted playfully. He reached out, grabbed Dravid's hands, and pulled him out of his chair.
Dravid planted his feet, offering a mild, laughing resistance. "Siddanth, I am serious. I have two left feet."
"I will guide you," Deva promised, pulling him toward the stairs. Then Deva looks at Ravi Shastri.
Ravi Shastri let out a booming laugh. He stood up, towering over the group. "If Rahul is going, I am definitely going. Lead the way, skip."
"Arjun you are also coming as well."
Arjun Tendulkar stood up and joined the group.
Deva escorted the five men up the wooden stairs. Virat, Harbhajan, and Yuvraj stopped dancing as they saw the legends step onto the floorboards.
Anirudh dropped an upbeat 90s Bollywood track.
Sehwag started doing an enthusiastic shoulder shimmy. Shastri moved with surprising grace, snapping his fingers. Sachin smiled, doing a simple box step alongside his son, Arjun.
Dravid stood near the edge, looking completely stressed. Deva stepped right next to him.
"Just watch my feet, Rahul bhai," Deva instructed, slowing his own movements down. Deva executed a simple, fluid two-step. Dravid watched him and awkwardly tried to copy the movement, eventually finding a stiff but acceptable rhythm.
When the music faded, Dravid immediately turned around and practically sprinted down the wooden stairs, heading straight for the safety of his sofa. The rest of the legends followed at a much more relaxed pace.
Deva remained on the stage. He looked out over the courtyard.
He spotted the Tollywood actors. Prabhas, Rana, Gopichand, and S.S. Rajamouli were standing near the bar, safely hidden in the shadows.
Deva walked down the stairs, crossed the stone courtyard, and reached the bar.
"Darling, no," Prabhas said immediately, holding his hands up defensively.
"Darling, yes,," Deva smiling broadly at the towering actor. "It is your turn."
"I am incredibly shy," Prabhas argued, shaking his head rapidly. "Ask Rana."
Rana took a step back, pointing at Prabhas. "Leave me out of this. He is the main hero."
"I am taking both of you," Deva laughed. He reached out, grabbed Prabhas by the wrist, and playfully pulled him forward. He grabbed Rana's forearm with his other hand.
Prabhas dug his heels into the stone floor, offering dramatic, laughing resistance. "Darling! I am not coming!"
Deva tightened his grip and began walking backward toward the stage, physically dragging the two massive actors. Gopichand tried to quietly sneak away, but Deva spotted him.
"Gopi, get up here!" Deva called out. Gopichand sighed, turned around, and followed them.
Deva then looked at Rajamouli. "Sir?"
Rajamouli laughed, put his glass down, and walked up the steps, completely amused by the persistence.
Deva pushed Prabhas and Rana into the center of the wooden stage. He turned to Anirudh and gave a single nod.
Anirudh bypassed the Bollywood tracks and immediately dropped the heavy, aggressive, iconic background music from the movie Chatrapathi.
The crowd went wild. Sameer and Feroz started whistling loudly.
Prabhas covered his face with both his hands, completely embarrassed. Rana started laughing, clapping his hands to the heavy beat.
Deva stepped directly in front of Prabhas. He did not wait for the actor to start. Deva raised his right hand. He positioned it near his face, palm open, and executed the exact, signature slow-motion hand wave that Prabhas had made famous in the movie. The movement was breathtakingly smooth, rolling his wrist perfectly to the beat.
The courtyard erupted.
Prabhas pulled his hands away from his face. He looked at Deva doing his step. Prabhas let out a loud laugh, finally dropping his resistance. He raised his right hand and mirrored Deva, executing his own signature step with effortless grace.
Rana, Gopichand, and Rajamouli joined in, doing the iconic hand wave together. Deva seamlessly transitioned with them into a heavy, foot-stomping cinematic routine.
After the Tollywood actors finished their set and walked down the stairs, panting and laughing, Deva remained on the stage. He pointed directly at Krithika. Then he pointed at Ritika, Sakshi, and the other cricketers' wives.
"Everyone up," Deva urged with a smile.
Krithika stood up, picking up the hem of her lehenga, and walked up the stairs. The wives followed her.
Anirudh switched back to a fast, popular Hindi dance track. Deva joined Krithika, grabbing her hands and spinning her smoothly, his footwork flawless.
Then after a while Deva walked over to the DJ console where Anirudh was standing.
"Play Bangaru Kalla Buchhammo from Murari," Deva requested.
Anirudh grinned, instantly recognizing the classic hit from the movie Murari. He queued the track and pushed the fader up. The nostalgic, melodious village beats instantly filled the courtyard.
The guests immediately stepped back, clearing a wide path as Deva walked straight through the crowd toward Krithika.
Bangaru Kalla Buchhammo…
Chengaavi Chempa Lachhammo
Bangaru Kalla Buchhammo…
Chengaavi Chempa Lachhammo
Deva executed small, perfectly timed shoulder movements and crisp finger gestures, matching the song beat for beat. He pointed playfully at her eyes and cheeks, acting out the lyrics praising her beauty.
Krithika noticed the direct attention immediately, but she raised her chin and looked away, pretending not to care.
Kopamlo Entho Muddhammo…
Oo Bungamoothi Subbammo
Krithika turned her body slightly away from him, crossing her arms and putting on a mask of fake, exaggerated anger.
Deva immediately leaned into his role. He stepped around to face her, trying to catch her eye. When she refused to look at him, he playfully copied her annoyed, pouting expression, thrusting his lower lip out in dramatic mimicry.
Krithika bit the inside of her cheek, fighting hard to keep her strict face. She lost the battle a second later, a bright smile breaking through her fake anger.
Deva immediately threw his hands up in a quick, joyful celebration of his victory.
Sandhe Poddhullo Muddhabanthalle…
Entha Muddhugunnaave
Vendi Muvvalle Ghallumantunte…
Gunde Jillumannaadhe
Bangaru Kalla Buchhammo…
Chengaavi Chempa Lachhammo
Kopamlo Entho Muddhammo…
Oo Bungamoothi Subbammo
Krithika recognized the rest of the routine from childhood. Seeing Deva nail the steps, she stepped forward to join him in the center. She didn't hesitate to take on the female lead's choreography. Her heavy lehenga restricted her movements slightly, but she remembered the steps.
She mirrored Sonali Bendre's elegant, teasing hand gestures, swaying gracefully in sync with Deva.
Neelo Chintha Chiguru Pulupunnadhe
Bulbul Pitta… Malmal Patta
Kavvamglaaga Chilike Kulukunnadhe
Thalukula Gutta…
Merupula Thatta
Deva kept his movements precise, stepping lightly around Krithika. He smiled broadly as she kept up with the fast-paced traditional footwork, holding her ground.
Hey… Neelo Chintha Chiguru Pulupunnadhe
Kavvamglaaga Chilike Kulukunnadhe…
Kontemaata Venuka Chanuvunnadhe…
Thelusukunte Manasu Pilupunnadhe…
The other wives clapped along, stepping side-to-side in the background as the couple held the spotlight.
Krithika placed her hands on her waist, matching the joyful, vibrant energy of the stanza.
Kallu Moosi Cheekati Undhante…
Vennela Navvukuntundhe
Musuge Lekunte… Manase Jagaana
Velugai Nilichi Untundhe…
Bangaru Kalla Buchhammo…
Chengaavi Chempa Lachhammo
They seamlessly hit the chorus choreography together again. The crowd whistled. Virat and Sameer were cheering the loudest.
Ninna Nedu Repu… Oka Nichhena
Sirisiri Muvva…
Gadasari Guvva
Manaku Manaku… Chelime Oka Vanthena
Sogasula Muvvaa… Musimusi Navvaa
Krithika moved through the gentle, swaying motions, keeping eye contact with Deva as he guided the rhythm. He didn't drop a single step, anchoring the entire performance.
Hey… Ninna Nedu Repu… Oka Nichhena
Manaku Manaku… Chelime Oka Vanthena
Evarike Vaarai Unte Emundhammaa…
Murali Kaani Vedhurai Podhaa Janma…
Cheyi Cheyi Kalipe Kosame…
Hrudhayam Ichhaadammaayi
Jaaripoyaaka Thirigi Raadhammo…
Kaalam Maaya Maraathi
As the song reached its peak, Deva grabbed Krithika's hands, spinning her smoothly on the wooden boards before they launched into the final chorus.
Bangaru Kalla Buchhammo…
Chengaavi Chempa Lachhammo
Kopamlo Entho Muddhammo…
Oo Bungamoothi Subbammo
Sandhe Poddhullo Muddhabanthalle…
Entha Muddhugunnaave
Vendi Muvvalle Ghallumantunte… Gunde Jillumannaadhe
Bangaru Kalla Buchhammo…
Chengaavi Chempa Lachhammo
Kopamlo Entho Muddhammo…
Oo Bungamoothi Subbammo
The song ended with Deva and Krithika completing the final, signature pose. The entire courtyard erupted in applause.
For the next hour, Anirudh Ravichander commanded the console. The strict divisions of groups broke down completely. The cousins ran back up onto the stage. The cricketers joined their wives. The actors mingled with the crowd. Deva stayed on the floor, dancing with everyone, his endless stamina and perfect rhythm anchoring the party.
Eventually, Anirudh stepped away, handing the music controls back to the original Sangeet DJ.
The party continued relentlessly until exactly 2:30 AM.
The DJ stood behind his console, looking out at the wooden stage. It was completely empty. The physical exertion of five straight hours of dancing had finally depleted the crowd. The guests were sitting heavily in the velvet sofas or lying on the Persian carpets, breathing hard.
Seeing that no one was moving anymore, the DJ finally cut the music. He didn't fade it out; he just stopped the track. The sudden silence in the massive Kakatiya courtyard was jarring.
"I cannot feel my feet," Krithika announced quietly, sitting heavily next to Deva.
"I am starving," Shikhar Dhawan declared from the next sofa, breaking the silence. "The biryani from dinner is completely gone."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the exhausted crowd.
Deva stood up. "Let's go," Deva told the group, gesturing toward the far corner of the courtyard. "We have the late-night counters open. Maggi and Karam Dosa."
The effect was instantaneous. The exhausted crowd found a sudden, desperate reserve of energy. They dragged themselves out of their chairs and followed Deva across the stone courtyard.
A small crew of chefs was standing by. On the left, a massive iron griddle sat over an open flame for the dosas. On the right, two deep woks were filled with violently boiling water and blocks of instant Maggi noodles.
Prabhas and Rana stood in front of the dosa counter. The chef poured thick white batter onto the hot iron griddle, spreading it rapidly into a paper-thin circle. He scooped a heavy dollop of bright red, fiery karam paste—a raw mixture of crushed Guntur chilies and garlic—and spread it aggressively across the dosa.
He poured melted ghee directly over the chili paste, sending up a thick plume of fragrant smoke, and dusted it heavily with peanut powder. He folded the massive, crispy, bright red dosa in half and slid it onto a ceramic plate.
At the other station, Virat and Dhawan watched the chef rip open packets of Maggi seasoning, tossing the spice mix into the boiling water along with chopped green chilies and onions. He stirred the noodles rapidly until they were thick, glossy, and heavily coated in the spicy masala.
Deva and Krithika also took the two plates Rahul had already secured for them. They sat down on a low stone bench away from the crowd.
The conversation was minimal. The focus was entirely on the hot, spicy food.
By 3:15 AM, the plates were empty, and the final wave of exhaustion settled over the group.
Prabhas walked over to the stone bench where Deva was sitting. Rana, Gopichand, and Rajamouli walked right behind him.
"We are leaving, Darling," Prabhas said, his voice entirely drained. He patted Deva heavily on the shoulder. "The dosa saved my life. Thank you."
Deva stood up. "Drive safe, Darling. Make sure you come back for the Muhurtham."
"We will be there," Rana promised, rubbing his eyes.
Rajamouli stepped forward and shook Deva's hand firmly. "It was a wonderful evening, Siddanth. We will see you at the wedding."
"Thank you for coming, sir," Deva said.
The Tollywood group turned and walked slowly toward the main exit archway. Deva watched them leave, then looked back at the courtyard. His teammates were slowly migrating toward the residential manors.
The Sangeet was over. The dances were finished. Only a few hours of darkness remained before the sun would rise over the Kakatiya village, bringing the final ceremony of the entire week.