Chlapter 1: The Weight of Expectations

The scent of cardamom and strong filter coffee clung to Aryan Sharma's crisp suit as he stepped out of the high-rise office building. At twenty-seven, Aryan was the quintessential eldest son of the Sharma household – responsible, driven, and undeniably successful. His days were a meticulous dance of market analyses and high-stakes decisions at Sharma Global Industries, a conglomerate built brick by brick by his grandfather, Dharmendra Sharma, and expanded by his father, Rajesh.

As his driver navigated the chaotic symphony of Delhi traffic, Aryan scrolled through his phone, a frown line creasing his brow. It wasn't a business report that held his attention, but a series of forwarded matrimonial profiles from his mother, Priya. Each one meticulously detailed, complete with horoscopes and family pedigrees. The unspoken expectation was a heavy, yet familiar, cloak.

Later that evening, the Sharma residence, a sprawling bungalow that blended traditional Indian architecture with modern comforts, was a whirlwind of activity. Dharmendra Sharma, the family patriarch, sat regally in his armchair, a newspaper held aloft, occasionally interjecting with a wise, booming laugh. Sarla, his wife and the family's gentle heart, supervised the kitchen, her voice a soft hum amidst the clatter of steel.

"Aryan beta, you're late!" Priya chided playfully as he walked in, immediately ushering him towards the dining table laden with a feast.

His younger brother, Kian, twenty-five, was already engrossed in conversation with their father. Kian, with his thoughtful eyes and perpetually curious mind, was the family's resident novelist, often finding inspiration in the very dynamics playing out around him. "Bhai, another day, another fortune made?" Kian teased, a knowing glint in his eye.

"Something like that," Aryan replied, taking his seat.

Across the table, Siya, their twenty-year-old sister, the "Dance Queen" of the family, was animatedly showing her phone to their aunt, Meena. "Look, Bhabhi, this new classical fusion piece! It's divine!" Siya's passion for Bharatnatyam was infectious, a vibrant contrast to Aryan's more measured demeanor.

The children, a boisterous collection of cousins, were a force of nature. Rohan, Sanjay Mama's "Baby Boss" son, was attempting to balance a chapati on his head, much to the amusement of Kiara, the "Drama Queen" daughter, who shrieked with theatrical delight. From the corner, twelve-year-old Arjun, Bua Anjali's son and the self-proclaimed "Baby Boss Don" of the school playground, watched with a calculating smirk, clearly formulating his next move. Diya, the "Fashion Queen" at nine, meticulously arranged her plate, ensuring her food complemented her outfit.

"Aryan, your grandmother and I were discussing," Dharmendra Sharma began, his voice cutting through the cheerful din, "it's time we finalize things. A good match is a blessing."

Aryan nodded, a practiced smile on his face. He knew this conversation. He respected his family, deeply. But the idea of an arranged marriage, of a stranger becoming his life partner, felt like a pre-written script he was expected to follow.

Later, away from the family's loving gaze, Aryan met his inner circle. Vikram Singh, his loyal "right hand," was already there, meticulously organizing their evening plans. Rahul Mehta, his strategic "left hand," offered a pragmatic take on a recent business deal. Dr. Sameer Khan, his "BFF Doctor," listened patiently, offering a calm presence, while Adv. Ishaan Verma, his "BFF Lawyer," provided sharp, witty commentary.

"So, the matrimonial parade continues?" Ishaan quipped, swirling his drink. "Any promising candidates, Aryan?"

Aryan sighed, a rare moment of vulnerability. "They're all... perfect on paper. But paper doesn't tell you much about a person, does it?"

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***