Rashmika and Vijay dazzle in regal traditional wedding look
Rashmika Mandanna and Vijay Deverakonda celebrated their traditional Telugu wedding ceremony this morning, surrounded by family and rituals.
The first image appeared on social media at dusk, and for a few moments, the internet simply stopped.
Rashmika Mandanna and Vijay Deverakonda stood together against the fading Udaipur light, her head gently resting against his shoulder, his hand holding hers with the tenderness of a man who had just promised forever. There were no crowds, no flashing bulbs, no film industry glitterati. Just two people, in love, finally allowing the world to see what they had protected for so long.
The wedding had happened hours earlier, in the quiet luxury of ITC Mementos, a hotel hidden 50 kilometers outside Udaipur’s famous lakes. The location was chosen not for its opulence, but for its privacy—a sanctuary where family could gather without cameras, where a grandmother could wipe tears without appearing on Page 3, where two actors could simply be a bride and groom.
Rashmika’s mother helped drape her saree that morning. It was a rust-colored masterpiece by Anamika Khanna, its red border stark and bold, like the woman wearing it. But it was the details that told the story—tiny temple-house motifs embroidered across the fabric, inspired by the sacred geometry of Hyderabad’s historic architecture. The designer called it “a canvas of devotion,” and as Rashmika stood before the mirror, her mother adjusted the pleats and whispered something only daughters hear on their wedding day.
Vijay waited outside, pacing. His friends kept trying to distract him with jokes, but his eyes kept drifting to the door. When Rashmika finally emerged, he forgot to breathe. Later, someone would capture that exact moment in a photograph—his hand reaching for hers before anyone said a word, as if she might disappear if he didn’t touch her.
The ceremony itself was small. No film stars, no political leaders, no carefully curated guest list designed for maximum media coverage. Just family. Just close friends. Just the people who had watched them fall in love when no one else was looking.
Rashmika’s father walked her down the aisle made of marigolds. He had been nervous all morning, practicing his steps, worried he might trip. When he placed her hand in Vijay’s, he couldn’t speak. He just nodded, once, and stepped back. Vijay squeezed his new father-in-law’s shoulder—a promise, without words, that he would take care of her.
The priest chanted in Sanskrit, the fire crackled, and somewhere in the back, Vijay’s younger brother filmed everything on his phone, crying so hard he forgot to hold it steady.
For the couple, this moment had been years in the making. Years of denials, of “just good friends,” of paparazzi flashbulbs catching them at airports and restaurants. Years of protecting something precious from a world that feeds on celebrity romance. Today, they finally let it go.
After the vows, Rashmika changed into a second saree—this one lighter, easier to move in. She danced. Those who were there say she danced like no one was watching, which, for the first time in her adult life, was true. Vijay joined her, clumsy but joyful, spinning her until she laughed so hard she had to hold his arms to steady herself.
The dinner that followed was not a filmi banquet but a family meal. Hyderabadi biryani, passed around in large vessels. Aunts arguing about recipes. Uncles telling embarrassing stories about the groom as a boy. Children running between tables, chasing each other with sparklers.
At one point, Rashmika’s grandmother took Vijay’s face in her hands and looked at him for a long moment. She didn’t say anything. She just nodded, satisfied with what she saw.
As night fell over Udaipur, the couple stepped away from the celebration. They walked to the edge of the property, where the lights of the hotel gave way to darkness and the distant hills.
Rashmika leaned against him, exhausted and euphoric. Vijay put his arm around her and pulled her close.
He kissed the top of her head. “Took us long enough.”
The photograph that would go viral hours later was taken just moments after that—two people, silhouetted against the last light of their last single day, holding each other like they had just discovered what home really means.
Back inside, the party continued. The children fell asleep on couches. Someone’s phone played old songs, and everyone sang along, slightly off-key, perfectly happy.
Tomorrow, the world would reclaim them—scripts, shootings, interviews, demands. But tonight, in a quiet hotel outside Udaipur, Rashmika and Vijay belonged only to each other.