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.
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