And the journey that you all were waiting for begins... Read at your own risk though. The author only used her heart and not her brain while writing it *hehe* 

Will wait for your comments!

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Jis din tu meri hovengi

Main kitte pagal na ho jawaan

Jis din tu meri hovengi

Author's POV

Strokes of dust highlighted the air as a convoy of black-tinted cars rushed across the road leading to the beautiful city of Chandigarh. The path was empty, as it was early morning when the sun's glow had just started to take control of the beautiful summer sky. The poetry of nature was left unheard under the influence of roaring wheels as the caravan owner had no time to pay attention to anything except the clock. He kept looking at the dial of his Rolex as minute after minute time slipped out of his hands.

He had never been late before and the sudden variation in routine had him disoriented. He couldn't even imagine the start of a day when he missed his morning ritual. It felt like an oath of devotion of 11 years would break just because of his inability to juggle between the two meetings that went longer than necessary. He has been traveling for the past 24 hours non-stop because come what may he couldn't survive without engaging in this habit of his. As soon as the car stopped in front of the Gurudwara Sahib, he flew out as if he was being chased by the wind.

A relieved sigh left his mouth as he saw a pair of handcrafted slip-ons embellished with floral patterns. It was a sleek brown pair that matched her every outfit and he knew how much she loved it. Looking down, he smiled as he raised his hand to weave through his flowing beard. Correcting his white Kurta Pajama he removed his leather Jutti that was the same brown shade as hers but plain and sophisticated. If someone ever found them together, he would think it's a pair owned by a couple. Ah! That is exactly what he wanted.

The men sitting in the car didn't dare to follow him because here he wasn't the president of the most renowned party among the youth, SYA, but a mere servant of the lord who sought the blessings of the almighty to start his day. More than that, they all knew he was here for that one blessing that the god had bestowed upon him and he couldn't start his day without seeing her face. For others, his day began when he opened his eyes in the morning, for him it started the moment his eyes got the privilege of looking at her.

Washing his hands and feet, he entered inside. After fulfilling his customary routine of taking the blessing of Shri Guru Granth Sahib Ji he exited the premises quietly and waited outside the building. A few minutes later, his heart went wild as he heard soft footsteps climbing down the steps with the casserole in her hand. The now empty casserole had been full of the heavenly Kadha prasad his Mehar made at home every morning for the Bhog and distributed amongst the Sangat. This was a fairly small domain held by the devotion of the nearby villagers and she traveled thirty minutes from her home to pray here every morning.

Dressed in a simple embroidered white suit, she looked as if an angel had descended from heaven to grace the earth with her brightness. The permanent gold earrings that she never removed politely caressed her skin as she walked away. While he stood there looking at her, surprised at his ability to blink. He bent down, touched the floor, and let the lingering dust particles from the land marring his fingertips touch his forehead. He let the positivity of not only the almighty but also his biggest grace decorate his crown as he smiled to himself.

Joining his hands in front of the Gurudwara Sahib, he prayed for the only thing he wanted from life. Her happiness. He was no ordinary man to pin after women like this. He was Dilraj Singh Dhaliwal and that woman he adored was his everything. His to-be wife. His Mehar.

A few minutes later, a little girl came running out and hugged his legs. He bent to her level and forwarded his cupped hands toward the little girl, who smiled cheekily at him. She quickly transferred half of the warm prasad she was holding in her little hands to him. He closed his hands and brought them to his forehead in a moment of reverence before savoring the religious offering made by the religion he followed. The religion of cherishing his Mehar.

"Waheguru ji ka khalsa waheguru ji ki fateh. Chachu godi?" The little girl greeted his uncle and asked him to raise her in his arms. He returned her greeting and picked her up in his arms as he kissed the little one's cheek.

"Chachu, chachi called me cute today and Mamma called you an idiot," The little girl giggled and he narrowed his eyes at her as he asked, "Japleen Kaur Dhaliwal, no car rides for you anymore"

Mimicking his angry stance she said, keeping her hands on her hips as her dupatta fell over her face, "Dilraj Singh Dhaliwal, no chachi de hathaan da Parshad for you anymore"

(Chachi's handmade holy offering for you)

Dilraj looked at her for a minute before starting to tickle the little piece of trouble as she laughed loudly. Smiling at her, he kissed her forehead before letting her down as she rushed to her mother. His sister-in-law and niece go to the same Gurudwara sahib as Meharjot Kaur Sandhu. Why? Because he starts his day with Parshad made by her. Also, he can't meet her directly. He had promised himself that he would meet her the day she was ready to welcome the next step of their lives. Which was today. But she wasn't aware yet.

"Sat Sri Akal bhabhi" Dilraj greeted her by touching her feet while she hugged him.

"You are an idiot. Like really. What was the need to come here straight from the Airport? The world isn't going to stop if you don't see her for one day" Arshpreet Kaur Dhaliwal, the wife of his elder brother Vikramjeet Singh Dhaliwal scolded seeing his red eyes due to lack of sleep.

"The world might not but can't say the same about this heart that revolves around her existence," Dilraj said solemnly, looking at the Nishaan Sahib as the lord witnessed his love for Meharjot Kaur Sandhu. He came here not to see her but to express his gratitude to this place for bringing her into his life. For answering all his prayers in the form of giving her to him. The prasad was a conveyor of the blessings of the almighty through the hands of his biggest blessing to him.

Arshpreet simply shook her head at his crazy self as she saw the rawest form of loyalty bloom in front of her eyes. Dilraj dropped them home and went back to his place to get ready for the day he was going to meet her officially. Today his wait of 11 years and her dedication were going to bear fruit as the result of the national interior design competition was going to be announced. And guess who was the chief guest?

"You bi!ch" the man cursed and the next moment he held his red cheek with his palm looking at the woman in front of him in shock. The girl whom the man was cursing and trying to abuse looked at the new woman who had intervened and slapped the man in utter astonishment.

She held the collar of the man and asked, "What happened? A bitch bit too hard? Before calling a girl such names remember that if she starts acting on them you'll be chopped into pieces"

The girl she had saved sniffed as the rich man had been trying to molest her in this deserted hallway leading to the washrooms. The man glared at her and tried to push her when she hooked her foot to his unattended left one and made him fall to the ground. Using his surprise in her favor she held his throat in a chokehold as she glared at him.

"Let me go" he fumed weakly while she simply tilted her head with mockery in her eyes.

"Apologize to her and I'll let you," she said in a non-negotiable tone. He thrashed as he held her wrist tightly but couldn't do much as her nails pressed painfully into his skin.

"I am sorry. Sorry. I'll never touch a woman again" he begged as she pressed his throat tighter. She let go of his neck and stood up dusting her hands.

"You mannerless woman. I'll destroy you. Your career would be burnt to ashes" the man roared as soon as he got back to his feet.

"Lok shaklaan ni dekhde bolde hoye. Gall ohdi ku karo jinni puga sako–" she was saying when her friend came running to her.

(People don't look into the mirror before speaking. One must talk only about what he is capable of fulfilling)

"Jot yaar tu yahan kya kar rahi hai? Andar ceremony shuru hone lagi hai. Ek din nahi ladegi toh aadhi nahi reh jayegi. Chal na" her friend tried to pull her away. 

(Jot what are you doing here? The ceremony is about to start inside. If you don't fight one day you won't become small. Come let's go)

The woman stopped her friend as she warned that man, "If I ever see you around I'll break your legs"

The man in a last attempt to save his image looked at his expensive iPhone and pretended to call his allies. "Dad I want you to file a case against—"

"What is your name?" he mocked. The woman stood in front of him and stared at him dead in the eye making him take a step back in fear. She took out her pen and wrote her details on his expensive coat in bold letters challenging him to do whatever was in his power.

"Kaur. Meharjot Kaur Sandhu. Karle jo tera vass chalde (Do whatever you can)" she said before patting his coat that she had earlier held making him gulp. He didn't dare touch her under the pressure of the anger radiating from her form. Her friend dragged her back as the function was about to start. Before parting she had to tell him the word that had been coming in her head since the moment she saw him. She had to tell him what he was in her dictionary.

"Fukra (Worthless boaster)" she said at his face before walking away as her hip-length hair tied in a braid swayed behind her. She pulled her coat and buttoned it up as she rubbed her hands on her beige formals. She was already nervous and now men like him were getting to her sanity.

Looking at her disappearing figure, Dilraj gritted his teeth as he ordered his men to pick the man and teach him the meaning of mannerlessness. Nobody threatened his woman and lived. He made sure of that. Picking the man up by his collar, he calmly told him,

"For every glare shot in her direction, every disrespect aimed at her, and every bruise you gave her, I am going to break a bone of yours. Sounds like a deal?"

He said as if he was making a business transaction, not a threat.

After he was gone, he turned back towards his assistant.

"Mere wali pakki sardarni ae. Kaur pehla dasdi hai naam baad vich (My woman is a true Sardarni. She describes herself as 'Kaur' first and then her name)" he said proudly while his assistant, Abhir who was also his friend couldn't help but admire this cute couple. He was crazy enough to stay away and she was crazy enough to keep finding his traces.

Walking away in a raged stupor, he bumped into a little figure and he immediately went stiff, knowing who it was. He looked down to see her rubbing her forehead as she banged into his firm chest. His little woman was 5'5 but in front of his 6-foot-tall self, she looked small. She angrily looked up at him while he did nothing but lose himself in her serenity. He loved every expression that touched her face starting from her cute little frowns to angry chidings.

For a minute she was startled by the grace of the man. His flawless turban tied around his head like a crown, creaseless brown three-piece suit, and matching loafers. He looked like a custom-made creation of God born to steal hearts. She quickly shook out of her stupor as she saw him gawking at her.

"Oh hello Mister, why are you staring?" she asked rudely. The anger of that previous man came back with full force.

"Nothing," he denied as he stepped back giving her way to move but she was in no mood to let his ogling session go. She stood there with her arms folded to her chest while he stood his ground staring at her openly. After all, for him, she was his wife for years.

She looked at the group of men including bodyguards walking beside him but fearlessly asked, "I asked something. Why the hell are you staring at me?"

"Because I am the only one who has that right" The words were out of his mouth before he could contemplate. A second later he realized his mistake as he knew she had never seen him before.

She angrily huffed raging at the worldwide population of men for treating women like their property. Nobody had the right except her Dil. Nobody except her fiancé had that right and she knew how rich men like him cowered away at his name.

"Akhaan thale. Jatti Dilraj Singh Dhaliwal naal mangi hoyi hai (Keep your eyes off me. I am engaged to Dilraj Singh Dhaliwal)" She said his name as if he was the highest authority in the world. As if his name was a prayer. As if there was no greater pride in her world than him.

He hid his smile as he looked at her amused. Their marriage was fixed at a young age but they never met each other. He on one hand knew even the sound of her feet while she didn't even know the color of his eyes. He had taken a promise from her parents to never let her see him. He didn't want to be a distraction between her and her dreams so he wanted to be officially introduced to her the day she fulfills her dream of making a name for herself in the world of interior design. He wanted her to carve an identity of her own before his fame chased her and made her feel like she was built because of him.

"Oh! And what does your Mr. Dhaliwal do?" he asked trying his best to keep the teasing off his tone. His wife looked so cute threatening him by his own name.

"He is the president of the Strategic Youth Alliance and ensures– Wait you don't know him?" she asked widening her eyes as if he had committed an unforgivable sin. He wanted to pull her cheeks. She was looking so cute.

"No! Is he a bigger shot than me?" he asked raising a brow. His assistant nudged her and said, "Sir Chief Minister sir wants to talk to you"

He pushed his hand back as his complete attention was on his woman. The entire world could wait. He was talking to his woman.

"He definitely has bigger manners than you. You don't know you shouldn't stare at women like that" She rolled her eyes while he said, "Excuse me! I didn't even say anything to you. I decently gave you the way to leave"

Abhir nudged him again as he was sweating by now. The chief minister wanted to speak to Dilraj, and he was busy fighting with this woman. He shook her as he repeated, "CM sir is on the line"

Dilraj turned back and glared at him as he took the phone from him and disconnected the call. If he didn't treat his woman like a priority over the world with what right would he call himself her husband? Even his own respect came secondary before hers.

"Do not disturb me while I am talking to my woman. CM, PM, or even if the fucking president calls me keep them on hold because I am talking to my wife. Got it?" he whisper-yelled angrily while Abhir meekly nodded seeing him getting so angry over a call. 

'Mantri Da Cut Dawan Phone Meri Marzi' Mehar's mind sang the song Meri Marzi by Parmish Verma to herself as she saw him cut the call of some minister effortlessly. This is what happens when you are raised in a Punjabi household. You have a song for every moment, every line and every situation. 

'Mantri Da Cut Dawan Phone Meri Marzi
Haamiyan Na Bharda Main Dil Ch Jo Karda
Main Kise Kolo Manga Na Salahvan Meri Marzi' 

She hummed the lyrics to herself on repeat until she saw him end the conversation. 

He turned back to Mehar who looked at him confused and smiled at her. The crew of bodyguards went in shock seeing his 360-degree change of mood before her. His anger took ages to melt and here he was smiling at Mehar as if he wasn't angry a minute back.

"Yes, so who was the idiot we were talking about?" In his mind, he was referring to his last conversation about the annoying chief minister's call while she fumed as he called her Dilraj an idiot.

"Your voice is irritating me. Bye," she snarled and walked away. He rubbed his forehead mechanically, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at her words. She was angry with him for calling himself an idiot. He was actually an idiot. Idiot in her love.

"And the emerging designer award goes to Meharjot Kaur Sandhu" The host announced and Mehar literally went numb in her seat. She couldn't believe she had made it possible in two years what people couldn't achieve in a lifetime. Shivering and hiding her tears she stood up to receive the award. Hugging her father tightly she speechlessly cherished her victory as he patted her back. There's no bigger victory for a girl than making her father proud. She heard him repeat how proud he was twice and that was the moment she finally felt the roar of joy seep into her heart.

Parting away, she hugged her mother who kissed her forehead with teary eyes, and then her cousins before finally stepping onto the stage.

"Now I'd request our esteemed chief guest to present Meharjot Kaur the award" Seeing Dilraj step on the stage, she hid her sour face as she didn't like him very much after he called her fiance an idiot. He beamed proudly at her as he gave her the award, and she softly narrowed her eyes at his smiling face. He quickly hid his expression going all serious. He prayed for her in his heart that may the almighty keep blessing her with such accolades and she touched new heights every day. He was so damn proud of her.

At this moment all his presidential powers, accolades, and victories felt pale in front of her smile. This was his real win because now her every achievement was his pride. 

"Congratulations Jinde Meriye", he said keeping his nickname to himself while she thanked him wholeheartedly. Her family looked at the couple with sweet smiles while Mehar remained clueless about his identity. They planned on surprising Meharjot tomorrow morning as he would be visiting her house with his family to fix the date of their engagement.

"Mr. Dilraj Singh Dhaliwal from SYA will be joining us soon in this conversation" The news reporter announced making Prabh smirk. She called out for her cousin, "Jot, Jot come here fast"

"I am not coming" Mehar was busy working on a new design as she yelled at her annoying cousin.

"Okay then, I will watch Jiju's interview alone" Prabh yelled back, making her shoot out of bed immediately. She rushed down the stairs at jet speed as generally her cousins hid his news from her but today if she was calling her then it must be his phone interview. She pushed her cousin down from the sofa and sat in the middle, having a direct view of his interview. She snatched the remote from her mischievous cousin, knowing she would change the channel in between to tease her.

"Ouch! Jot, this ain't fair" Prabh yelled, throwing a cushion at her. Everyone called her Jot because once she heard the first voice message from her Dil she knew the nickname Mehar was only meant to roll over his lips. She only allowed Dilraj to call her Mehar.

"Jai Babe di, Hayeee his voice is to die for," she swooned, not realizing it was the same voice she called irritating in the morning. Her parents announced that he would be coming to meet her the next morning, breaking her wait of so many years. She couldn't sleep all night due to excitement and finally put on the recording of his first voice message to her as it acted like a lullaby inviting her to sleep.

She remembered the day she talked to him for the first time. She had restlessness about the future and was unable to focus on her studies. Confused about what he felt for her if he even liked her, and how he was doing without her, she was very skeptical about their relationship. That is when her phone rang. She didn't know how he knew what she was thinking but as soon as he said, 'Sat Sri Akal Ji' in that husky voice of his. All her worries disappeared. He clearly told her how he would call her after her exams and assured her that he was happy with the alliance and would do anything to keep her happy as well. Her respect for him grew innumerable times as he told her about his wish to meet her only the day she had fulfilled the dream she had been living for. He didn't want to be a hurdle, or show stealer, he wanted to be her supporter.

They had talked only five times during the past years but she held his voice notes to herself as if they were her string of hope.

One night she had urged him to sing for her and express what he was feeling at that particular moment lying in his bed. She was teasing him but the moment he started singing she knew she was in deep shit because he sang a song that synced the feeling of longing and love in such a heartwarming manner that there was no space left for doubt. After that song, she couldn't sleep at night without listening to it. He had converted the yearning he felt for her in words and she had embraced it tightly in her heart. Yaad.

"Ik paase aave teri yaad

Te dooje paase neend vi na aave

Har vele rakhde udeek aivein

Kise pase tu dis jaave"

(On one side I miss you

And on the other side I can't even feel asleep

I always keep hoping

That may somewhere I get to see you)

His voice rang in her ears, making her smile. Her state was no better than his because, like a crazy person, even she hoped that someday she would meet him in a coincidence. She waited for him. And finally, the wait was going to end in a few hours.

"Mr. Ucha lamba gabru Sardar Munda, finally I get to meet you tomorrow," she described him through the eyes of her fangirling cousins before sinking her face into the pillow and drifting off to sleep.

(★‿★)(★‿★)(★‿★)(★‿★)(★‿★)(★‿★)(★‿★)(★‿★)(★‿★)(★‿★)(★‿★)(★‿★)

No! Don't blame me if I went overboard because I already told you in the beginning that the inner Punjabi is out of control. I don't really know if you guys liked it but I really hope you did. 

Worth the wait? Did you enjoy the first part of their story?

Sooo..how was it?

What was the best part of the update?

The best dialogue?

The best scene?

Aren't they made for each other?

She called his voice irritating and can't even fall asleep without listening to it *haha*

Something you disliked?

Any translation you want?

Something that made you laugh?

Something that made you smile?

Feeling aa rahi hai na ki aapki author punjabi hai *haha*

The chapter is unedited so kindle spare the poor author. I didn't know if I was doing justice to their tale so it took me pretty long to write this one. I sincerely respect and appreciate all religions and cultures. 

Rate the update for me please:

1. Loved it

2. Loved loved loved it

3. Freaking loved loved loved it 

Also the thing about having a song for every damn situation is the truth. Don't even ask me. I sing to myself the entire day.

What do you think happens next? Mehar is going to be officially introduced to him *wink*

Thank you sooo much for reading. I hope you enjoyed the crazy ride. Your support is what keeps me going. Do give tons of inline comments and press the star button before you leave. Your update ends here while mine begins the moment your comments start dropping by. Love you people!

The next update comes the moment your comments convince me that you all are invested in it as much as I am. Keep smiling and shining!

Random question: Was Dilraj's step to not become a distraction in her journey right or wrong? (He didn't want her life to be overpowered by his name)

Or

Who do you love more: Dilraj or Meharjot?

Or 

Something about the plot...

Signing Off

Ms. Bhatia