Her silver khussay shimmered as she stepped lightly through the overgrown green grass. She had no idea how she had gotten there, but she had. The dark red wall her hand rested on, seemed to stretch as far as her eyes could see and as high as the sky could reach. The whiteness of her chola and chooridaars —to an onlooker—would appear to be a gently shaped piece of sky sent to grace the land. Her slender figure and gentle features were lost in the vastness of the sun-lit, deserted mansion. She was lost. Her misted brown eyes betrayed her inner thoughts: she felt as if she were a sparrow blown off course by the wind, but blown on course by destiny.
From all sides of the ancient haveli , there resounded the beats of a tabla . "Dhin Dhin Dha Ghe Tirkat Tu Na Katta." Looking up, she could see only the clear blue sky. Looking around, she could see the expansive haveli courtyard. On the walls were etched intricate designs of flowers and vines. Although now fading, their designs sent her wandering back through time when she had lived in this haveli.
"But I’ve never lived in a haveli," came the voice of her lost soul. As she dismissed the thought, she caught a shadow through the corner of her eyes. "There’s something there. Or someone. He’s calling me. I must go." Her gentle steps turned into the steps of a love beckoned by fate, after the separation of lifetimes.