NOVEL~*Hiding behind a Stranger*~Thread 16-CHAPTER 21-UPD 23rd Nov

Teaser for Chapter 21

'We were alr...ready happy bhai-sa... your gesture just m... made us happier...'

'Already happy?'

'Samarth banna... he is referring to the celebrations that were going on here...' the mother spoke up for her son 'we just heard that our Harka baisa's wedding has been fixed...'

'Oh...' The smile that'd only just been born on his lips, died out again 'I see...'

'And it is to a man we already know... and adore...'

'Really?' Akbar asked, the quip blandly slipping out of his lips - though the tightening in his chest warned him that he might not like to hear what was to come.

'The Kunwar of Manswar... have you heard of him?'

'Kunwar of Manswar?' he muttered, with a vague stare

'Kunwarsa Mahendar...' the widow coyly pulled the veil across her face, as a sign of respect when taking the prince's name 'a messenger from Manswar had arrived, delivering this news to Vaid kakasa only a short while ago...'

Rest of Chapter 21 below...

Parnagarh

The sick house...

Those words drew Akbar's half-willing glances back towards the mother-son duo, bringing him to face with one of the most heart-thawing spectacles he'd seen.

As the widow's sniffles became more audible, a very sick boy was trying to comfort his mother - an unfortunate woman who had lost her husband. And would probably lose her only son too.

Yes it was sad, but true - Pappu might not have too long, after all. The boy had trouble moving his hands. Even his speech was slurred, his sunken eyes unable to focus well anymore. His small bony body was scorching with fever - a fever that typically came every evening, to break into a sweat next morning. A cycle that would repeat on and off, on and off, gradually wasting the body by draining every ounce of its reserves.

It was a phenomenon that Akbar knew all too well - he had suffered the same disease as a child. And just like this spirited fatherless boy, he used to smile through his anguish too.

Yet, there was one stark dissimilarity between the boy's present circumstances and Akbar's past.

Despite all of his agony, Pappu had one saving grace. Pappu had a mother, who loved him. A mother, who sat beside him and cared for him through thick and thin - unlike that poor little child who woke up on his sick bed, many years ago, to find that his ammi had left. No, she hadn't died - for, that would be a reality he could've eventually come to terms with.

Instead, she had packed her bags and left - forever abandoning a son, who she presumed was destined to die anyway!

'Don't say that, badiammi... my ammijaan will come back... she can't leave me...' he defended her, even a month after she'd left him with nothing but a letter and a few coins.

'Foolish boy... your ammi has run away with her lover... get that in your thick head! You have two choices - stop fighting the disease and give up your life, so it'll save me the medical expenses... or get well soon, get off that bed and make yourself useful in the house! I am NOT going to sit here and care for you... understood?'

It took that newly-orphaned child months to accept the fact that the very person for whose sake he used to smile through anguish and pain, had given up on him. That the one he loved most - more than he'd even loved abbu - had willingly left him, her own son, because she'd had enough. That she'd had enough of the poverty and debts following abbujaan's death. That she'd had enough of badiammi's taunts. That she had grown tired of leading the life of a widow with a sick son to care for. So tired that she had left bed-ridden Akbar in the care of abusive relatives, to go build a new comfortable life for herself with another man.

Of course, with Allah's miracle, Chachajaan's support and the selfless work of a good healer, Akbar was able to return from the jaws of his death. But nothing could bring back the cheerful child who'd died then. Nothing could bring back the smiles that'd perished forever, when the boy had finally learnt that he must stop calling out for 'ammijaan'.

Here stood a bitter young man in his place today.

Following a deep sigh and a lot of self-will - both of which, were nowhere near enough to settle the tumultuous thoughts in his head just then - Akbar finally ceased his silence 'Shall I fix the bow for you?'

Pappu's eyes lit up like fireworks 'But it can't be fixed... it's broken beyond repair...'

Kneeling beside the boy, he took the bow from the child and inspected its structure closely. Unwinding some of the extra string from one of its corners, he snapped it off. Then, bringing together both halves of the bow, he used the same piece of string to tie a tight seal around the broken joint. It was only a temporary-fix - but it would work for now. 'There you go...' he handed it back, not realising that his lips had curved into a faint smile.

'Thank you...' the boy found it difficult to bring his unstable hands up - but Akbar waited, letting him take as long as he needed 'and wh... what about the br... broken toys for the ressst of the chil...ren?'

The young man paused 'I'll return soon... maybe tomorrow morning... and repair the rest of them for you, alright?'

'Really?' The boy blinked in disbelief

'You have my word!' Akbar assured the kid with a nod.

'We were alr...ready happy bhai-sa... your gesture just m... made us happier...'

'Already happy?'

'Samarth banna... he is referring to the celebrations that were going on here...' the mother spoke up for her son 'we just heard that our Harka baisa's wedding has been fixed...'

'Oh...' The smile that'd only just been born on his lips, died out again 'I see...'

'And it is to a man we already know... and adore...'

'Really?' Akbar asked, the quip blandly slipping out of his lips - though the tightening in his chest warned him that he might not like to hear what was to come.

'The Kunwar of Manswar... have you heard of him?'

'Kunwar of Manswar?' he muttered, with a vague stare

'Kunwarsa Mahendar...' the widow coyly pulled the veil across her face, as a sign of respect when taking the prince's name 'a messenger from Manswar had arrived, delivering this news to Vaid kakasa only a short while ago...'

Bansi

Silver-tusked elephants carrying opulent howdahs. Impressive palanquins. Velvet flags. Stately horses. Trumpets and drums. Mahouts and soldiers. Cooks and maids. Musicians and dancers. The glitter of gold was dazzling, the fanfare drowning everything else in the vicinity.

There was no doubt that the razzle-dazzle of the royal procession of Manswar had left an impact on all bystanders.

Well, all bystanders except for one.

Standing by a high-rise arched jali window on the Eastern side of the palace and flanked by a bevy of delighted maids, Heera watched the blurry chaos of colours and noise - the grandeur not having impacted her in the least. She stood like a marble statue, adorned to perfection so that she could be presented in front of the royal women of Manswar - to be unveiled, observed and judged by their keen glances.

The finest brushstrokes of kohl outlined her doe-shaped eyes, a thin layer of tinted bees-wax glossing her lips pink. Bright red of the freshly painted alta accentuated the pearl of her skin, the ruby ornaments complementing the green silks she wore.

No, she did not need any of these accessories to make her look beautiful. But now that she had them on, she appeared divine - every bit like the famed heiress, whose beauty was worth all of that grandeur and show that the Manswaris were displaying. Which is precisely how kakisa had wanted it - seeing how the Maharani of Manswar was a very finicky woman.

So Heera did her duty - standing like a marble statue, devoid of expression and emotion, braving the blows that threatened to batter her foundations down, constantly wondering why God had put her here. Weren't the burdens of tragedy, responsibilities and heartache already testing her strength to the limit? Why this new turmoil that seemed impossible to get out of?

'But I cannot do this kakasa... he was the man jiji loved... this feels wrong... it is a betrayal to jiji's memories...'

'Do not think that way, bitiya... you are only keeping her memories alive, by taking this step for the sake of duty...'

'I am not in the right frame of mind for this... please try and understand kakisa...'

'But bitiya... that's precisely why you need something positive in your life... something to look forward to... the festivities will brighten your days... the ceremonies will be a good distraction...'

'At least give me time... I beg you...'

'The decision lies in their hands, Heera... we cannot make demands... not when we are the ones in desperate need of their support... I'm sure you appreciate that... don't you want what's best for Parnagarh?'

'Of course I do... which is why I've been trying to do everything I can to secure its future... kakasa... at least give the letter I've written a read... you'll understand...'

'This is far more effective than any letter or message you could be writing... I want to hear no more arguments on this, bitiya... understand?'

She had tried everything she could, made every point she could make. But all her requests had fallen on deaf ears, all her efforts thwarted.

The only hope she now had, was jijasa himself. Like her, he had little interest in this wedding too - after all, he had agreed to it only because kakasa had emotionally coerced him into it. If not, he had been willing to support Paranagarh even without any such arrangement, hadn't he? So he would understand her, and as a gentleman, he would respect her wishes, wouldn't he?

'Yes, jijasa would!'

It was not long before she was led towards the large receiving chamber, and brought in the presence of the royal women of Manswar. All throughout, Heera could feel the feet below her ground, and she knew she was keeping up appearances amid the welcome formalities.

But beyond that she could not process much.

'Heera...' kakisa nudged her elbow with a light tap.

The young lady glimpsed up, focussing on the scenes ahead, to realise that the most prominent figure of the gathering, the Maharani herself, was walking towards her.

'Khamma Ghani sa...' She offered the woman a formal Marwari salute.

A pause later, her response came 'Ghani khamma...'

A long spell of silence followed - an unnerving spell for all present - during which Heera observed the Ranisa for the first time. She had seen the lady before at jiji's betrothal. But it was only now that she got to observe her from such close quarters. And she had to agree with all the tales she'd heard - that there could be no woman who defined the term 'authoritarian', as aptly as this Maharani did!

'The veil...' Ranisa uttered, making no attempt to ease into an informal conversation first 'surely there's no need for it, in here... I would like to see the face of my son's bride properly, please!'

The maids stepped forth at once and gently lifted up the silk by its borders, letting the cloth slide behind her hair.

'My my...' Various sounds of approval erupted amongst different sections of the crowd.

The queen, however, exhibited nothing more than a mild frown 'Not bad...'

Not bad? Heera wasn't naive, and despite the troubled state her mind was in, she could guess that the queen was more impressed by her beauty than she was letting on. Nevertheless, nothing to celebrate about - seeing how she wasn't trying to impress the Manswaris now 'Thank you Ranisa...'

Suddenly; the Maharani snapped her fingers, taking everyone by surprise 'Please leave us alone...'

So the maids dispersed, and most of the relatives too, leaving behind only a few important people in that gathering - giving the young lady the feeling that what was to come might not be pleasant.

'Your eyes... they're pretty... but they're...' the Maharani paused, not completing the rest of the sentence for the sake of civility 'I only hope the disability would not pass on something unpleasant to my son's children... to the royal heirs of our kingdom!'

Kaki let out an anxious sigh on hearing the awkward question that'd been put forth, debating if she must explain on behalf of Heera. But to her relief, the young lady broke her spell of silence shortly thereafter.

'Ranisa... with your permission let me clarify' she decided to dispel the myth since it was her honour at stake here. Besides, she'd already guessed that the superstitious questions would come - only she hadn't expected them to come so soon 'I had an accident, when riding my horse as a child... that's how I lost part of my vision... it is not a disease...'

The stiff lines on the queen's temple slowly eased out. Not only was this girl more beautiful than her sister, she seemed more docile and yet wiser too. Maybe this arrangement would not be as bad as she originally feared 'Ranisa...' she addressed the hostess 'I would like to rest now... we've had a long and tiring journey... but later on... today... maybe our royal priests could sit together... and decide upon an auspicious hour to formalise the relationship between both families!'

'That would be lovely...' kaki exclaimed - after which, a drone of murmurs rose in the backdrop - murmurs that steadily culminated into a cacophony of happy cheers.

Heera managed a formal smile too, to play her part as a member of the celebratory ambience. But her mind was racing. Racing with hundreds of thoughts, worries, and questions. This was all happening too fast. She had to meet Kunwar Mahendar as early as possible, so she could let him know her views about this 'arrangement'. And it had to be done before things went too far. After all, there was just no other foreseeably quicker way to put this wedding on hold.

Next day...

Parnagarh

Jiji ran around the Haveli, with her eyes opened wide

But never did she find me, because I know how to hide!

It'd been long since they managed to gain entry into the haveli. In fact, as soon as the guards had locked up after their routine morning rounds, the two spies had made their way in. But it had taken them a good while thereon, to comb through the many rooms leading up to the main bedchambers. Scouring through every furniture, every corner, in search of the Farmaan was time consuming. Moreover, all this had to be done keeping their heads low, their feet quiet and their voices hush.

Little surprise then that only a few rooms had been covered so far. There were still 30 odd rooms they hadn't even set foot in. Progress was slow. Slower than he would like. And they didn't have plenty of time left. At most, a couple of hours - before the maids would return to sweep the floors, water the plants and light the lamps in the Goddess' shrine.

So wasting not a moment further, the young man moved ahead stealthily to tackle the next bedchamber, following the clues and trusting his instincts as he continued his search of that elusive document.

Every trick uncanny, she may have tried

Every nook and cranny, she may have spied

The poem played in his head over and over, his eyes keenly scouring through the fresh set of scenes that surrounded him now.

A majestic desk at one end, a lavish dressing area at the other. Pieces of grand furniture dotted all throughout, with a sweeping terrace far beyond. It was one of most sophisticated chambers in this mansion - and yet there was a certain warmth about the elements in it, almost like it was the hearth of the haveli. All throughout this empty mansion were the invisible footprints that the Sahiba had left behind in some form or another. But no place were those imprints more noticeable than it was in here.

This was HER personal chamber.

Drawing in a lung-full of air, Akbar stepped into her room - treading upon the very paths where the chirpy sounds of her anklets used to echo until not too long ago.

'I'd hide inside planters, trunks and urns... she'd act like she could never find me... and I would sing this poem to tease her!'

He began his quest in that room, by kneeling beside an arrangement of pots bordering the archways. It was then that his gazes fell upon a particularly large planter. Or rather, the shrub in that planter that boasted the most exquisite bloom of roses he'd ever seen.

'She loves her plants, doesn't she?'

The quiet footfall in the corridors grew louder, as Azeez walked up from behind 'No... no luck in Durga Sahiba's chambers either... I have dug through every pot, planter, trunk and chest... so much so that my fingernails are now raw!'

A short smirk broke free from his lips 'Fine... take a break... sit down...'

'Thank you...' Azeez slid down onto the floor nearby with his back against a wall, his fingers toying with a plant he couldn't even recognise 'these rare plants of Parnagarh... she uses them to heal people...' he smiled 'if only she'd found a cure for all diseases... then innocent children like Pappu wouldn't have to suffer... speaking of which...' he took a peek at Khan Sahib 'what were you chatting with Pappu last evening? That too... for so long?'

'Pappu?' Akbar let out a weary sigh at the choice of topic that Azeez had decided to bring up 'Pappu had a broken bow... I fixed it for him...'

'And what was in that box?'

'Broken toys... he wanted me to fix them too!' the young man answered flatly, before resuming his work again.

'So...'

'So, I told him I'd come by today morning... to have them fixed...'

'But you didn't go today morning... that would've left Pappu very disappointed...'

'I didn't go, because we had to finish this... I'll go later on in the evening... I've given the kid my word... I intend to fulfil it!'

'Oh!' teased Azeez, pleasantly surprised to watch Khan Sahib developing a soft spot for the boy 'You've taken a liking to him haven't you?'

Akbar looked up 'Have you finished asking me all your questions?' His glare was hard, but those eyes were also partly glazed-over by tints of grey, as though he was distracted. As though his mind was revisiting many different dark thoughts at the same time.

'No questions...' Azeez nodded, giving up his playful ways 'I'm done...'

'Then... if your fingernails have rested enough... get back to work!'

As the warning trailed off into stillness, the young chap sprung back into action, joining his master in the hunt for the Farmaan. Yes, Azeez was an eternal prankster and such warnings hardly deterred him. But this occasion was different. Khan Sahib wasn't merely annoyed. There was something unusual about his tone too. A marked change. The man seemed preoccupied, almost troubled - and he had been this way ever since he'd returned from his encounter with Pappu. Now, Azeez wasn't aware of the sinister reasons behind this change, but he could understand the gravity of the situation - and knew when to stop!

Suddenly, and almost out of nowhere, Akbar spoke up - interrupting the very rule-of-silence that he had imposed a few moments ago 'What do we know about the kingdom of Manswar? About the Kunwar of Manswar?'

'Nothing yet...' Azeez replied slowly, curious as to why and how that question had emerged 'nothing apart from the fact that he was betrothed to Durga Sahiba...'

He observed the man who'd brought up the query - the Sahib's eyes were still fixed on his work, but his lips had uncurled into a straight line, almost like he was clamping down on distressing emotions 'Why...' asked Azeez 'should I dislike him?'

'Dislike?' Akbar scoffed 'I'm just a bit sceptical about this Kunwar... and his intentions...'

'What intentions?'

'I learnt last evening that...' he exhaled sharply 'that he is going to be wedded to Harka Sahiba...'

'Oh!' Azeez' eyes widened as the facts dawned upon him. Harka Sahiba was going to get married to him? That was sudden. No wonder the Sahib had been so unlike himself. 'But, why are you so sceptical about this Kunwar's intentions?'

'Of what I've heard, the Kunwar was positively smitten by Durga Sahiba... barely 4 weeks since she's passed and preparations are underway for him to get married to the younger sister? Doesn't that seem odd?'

'But what if it was Maharaj Chitranjan who'd pleaded with him?' Azeez tried to put across other logical perspectives 'What if the Kunwar is doing it only to protect Parnagarhis?'

'Protect the Parnagarhis? Or protect his own interests?' Akbar grimaced 'You know what... maybe you're right... I've been surrounded by scheming politicians for far too long... I'm unable to trust anyone easily!' With a nonchalant shrug, he reverted back to the search.

Truth be told, the young man had effectively played down his sentiments about the entire affair - that too, by several notches. The bottom line was that he could not get himself to trust Kunwar Mahendar, whichever way he debated.

And that was just his level-headed logical side analysing the situation.

If he let his other side speak - the emotional side - the voices of his rumbling ego roared far more strongly. So strongly that he was beginning to dislike a man he'd never met. Beginning to dislike even the sound of his name. After all, this was the first rival in front of whom Akbar Mahmoud Khan had to bow out - by surrendering something extremely precious. After all, this was the man who could probably give her everything that he could not!

Then again, that was how life was, wasn't it? Brutal!

Closing his eyes for a prolonged moment as he swallowed a very bitter pill, Akbar finally opened his eyelids - his gazes falling upon the planter with the large blossom of roses in it. Having poked and prodded into all the remaining urns lining that wall, this was the only pot he hadn't searched so far. He had kept putting it off, since it felt cruel to disturb a tender bloom that'd been nurtured with such care.

But, it had to be done.

Bansi

The royal gardens

'Ouch'

Gently dropping the plush rose into the flower basket, she inspected the tip of her throbbing finger. A moist blob of red emerged, swelling in size, till it overflowed down the sides of her finger dripping down as tiny droplets of blood.

'You must be cautious around such nasty thorns...' came a genteel voice from behind 'you've wounded yourself... here... please take this...' He held out a silk kerchief for her 'is it painful?'

'These wounds never truly heal, Sahiba... which is why the pain never disappears completely...'

'Thank you...' she acknowledged 'but I'll be fine, Kunwarsa...' Handing over the flower basket to her maids, Heera took out her own muslin kerchief and dabbed the wound dry 'Besides, where there are roses, there will be thorns!' After dismissing the ladies beside her, she turned around to him.

On finally coming face-to-face with jijasa, her emotions welled up, in remembrance of jiji. However, his gentlemanly features remained a comforting ocean of calmness. Chitranjan kakasa had mentioned that he'd seemed devastated by the tragedy when they met last. So watching his profile so composed now, was a cause for some relief 'Greetings Kunwarsa...'

'Greetings...' he wished her back 'lost in thought? You didn't hear me coming?'

'Oh no...' she smiled away her woes, so it would mask the grief in her voice 'I was just collecting flowers for the evening Pooja...'

'I heard you wanted to meet me here...'

A short pause later, Heera nodded 'Yes... I apologise if this caused you inconvenience... and I know this is not the norm... but I wanted to talk to you about something...'

'This was no inconvenience whatsoever... but before that...' he spoke haltingly 'how have you been? We were all immensely worried when we heard nothing from you!'

'I sent you messages... letters of condolences... information... sent one of my personal messengers as well... didn't you receive anything?'

'No...' his tone turned even more sombre 'you have suffered a lot, haven't you?'

Yes she had. And she still was.

'There are mornings I wake up, still unsure if it is all just a horrible dream!'

'I'd warned her not to go... I'd offered to send my men along... if only she'd listened... then... she would be here with us... today...' the Kunwar paused, the skin on his neck tightening, as though he was choking up in sorrow.

'Kunwarsa, you've suffered no less...' Heera wiped the tear brimming at the fringes of her lashes, wondering if she must give him a little privacy so he could mourn in silence.

However, a few moments later, Mahendar had cleared his throat, and returned to relative normalcy. 'Anyhow we are just puppets in the hands of fate... have to follow what destiny decides for us!'

'Oh...' she swallowed a painful lump in her throat, watching how he'd managed to compose himself with such ease. Maybe it was because he was a man that he was so much better at holding back his grief. Maybe it was easier for men to come to terms with such tragedies.

Nevertheless, her own emotions refused to be so disciplined. The droplets of water refused to stop brimming, how many ever times she wiped them dry. Eventually, they burst their banks, forming their own soft pathways down her face. So, for the sake of decency, she averted his glances till she could regroup herself. 'I haven't stopped getting nightmares...' she gazed at the rose bush in front 'especially of the horrible hour, when I'd cradled her bleeding body in my arms...'

Briefly dragged back to the appalling final moments of her sister's life, she continued sharing her anguish over the ordeal - whilst he watched on, in silence.

In a short while though, the sounds of her words began fading away into white noise.

As he tuned out, Mahendar decided to spend his time doing something else - possibly, something more interesting. So, unbeknown to her, his gazes began venturing towards those partly-hidden features concealed behind a sheer veil. Feasting his eyes upon their freshness. She was a rare kind of beauty indeed. Probably the rarest kind. Virginal. Ethereal. Unblemished. Untouched. Purer than the unborn petals of a flower bud, for no other man had even laid eyes upon them.

He had been aware that she was stunning. However, since a part of him had been besotted by the persona of the older heiress, he had never cared to observe the younger sister. But now that he was beholding her from such close quarters, he had to agree - she possessed a unique power to entrance her observers. Remarkable! Moreover, at present, there was an alluring element about her innocence and sadness too. Almost erotic. Especially the manner in which those tears touched her cheeks, and then her lips, before sliding down her neck. If only it were his fingers in place of those tears. 'Not many days to go for that though...'

'Kunwarsa?' Heera's thoughts had screeched to an abrupt halt. She couldn't see from the corner of her eye, so she would never know for sure. But if she relied on her instincts, she would have to say that the prince had been staring at her. Probably gazing at her in ways that he mustn't.

Made uneasy by the very notion, she wiped her cheeks dry and pulled the borders of her veil across the face - deciding to give the man a gentle reminder of how she viewed the kind of 'relationship' they shared, in case he was getting carried away.

'Jijasa...' Heera said, instead of addressing him by the title 'Kunwarsa' 'did you hear what I've been trying to tell you?'

Her subtle shift in attitude did not go unnoticed.

'Yes... I did...' Mahendar nodded with authority, the white noise instantly unravelling into clearer phrases again 'Go on...'

'Then... I hope you would empathise with my sentiments, jijasa...' her manner was kind, but her stance firm 'I hope you would understand that I am not prepared to go through with this arrangement... with this marriage!'

'What?' he nearly exclaimed - her startling confession like an ugly slap on his aristocratic pride. His mind replayed her words for the second time, and then the third - lest he had inferred her words wrongly. But with every instance that he recalled her rejection I am not prepared to go through with this arrangement the blow to his ego came on harder. 'I am sorry, what...' he asked again, in disbelief 'what did you just say?'

'Jijasa... I am not ready for this marriage...' she pleaded with her eyes 'these developments must have caused you a lot of trouble and I apologise for all of it... I shall apologise to your parents for the difficulties this has caused them too...' she glimpsed down at the fingers that she was toying with 'unfortunately, all these decisions were taken in my absence... had I the slightest idea that kakasa would put forth such a proposal, I would have been able to advise him against it...'

As she voiced her thoughts, Mahendar was left grinding his teeth in silence, plagued by visions of his carefully-built plans crumbling down, piece by piece, into dust. It was happening all over again, wasn't it?

'NO!' he told himself the very next instant. He would not let it end this way. He would not give up so easily - especially not after all those painstaking efforts he'd taken so far! Forcefully shutting away the frustrating visions, he came back with a calculatedly-gentle retort 'But why do you say that you are not ready for this marriage?'

Heera lifted her eyes to study him. She could sense a subtle difference in his tone. Was it disappointment? Was it confusion? She couldn't make out yet. 'Because jijasa...' she paused 'I am not in the right frame of mind for a wedding now...'

'Don't take this the wrong way...' the Kunwar explained, feeling the growing strain of keeping up this show of decency and chivalry 'I don't want this wedding either... but I am going through with it, because I'd given your sister my word... I'd promised her that I would take care of Parnagarh, and take care of you!'

Yes. Heera could make out what it was - it was frustration! His entire speech would have sounded noble - had the tinges of annoyance not slowly crept in by the end of it. 'Why the frustration though?' the mystified young lady was forced to ponder - particularly when considering the timing of it all. Was he just stressed, or could it be something else? 'So, you're doing all this for the sake of a promise you'd given jiji?'

'Of course! Why else do you think?'

'Then you must remember that you'd given her TWO promises, jijasa! And if you remember the first, you surely wouldn't haven't forgotten the second promise... would you?'

'I'm bound forever by two precious aspects of my life that a marriage cannot change...one, Parnagarh... two and more importantly, my sister...'

'I wish that my lands and my people continue to remain under our joint charge'

'And when my sister weds, it would be to a man of her choice, much like I am following my own preferences.'

Parnagarh

'We have about an hour left, before the maids are meant to return... if we don't find the Farmaan now... shall I come back in the night to...'

'No...' Dismissing the suggestion by a flick of his palm, Akbar continued to take brisk strides along the empty hallways, past many-a-stately room 'we can't do this at night... the security outside the haveli increases after sunset... besides, we'd need to use a lamp to find our way around... which might attract attention... if we don't find the Farmaan today, we'll return tomorrow...'

'Maybe the Farmaan is not in this haveli at all... we've searched all the important rooms, haven't we? The library, the reception rooms, their bed chambers, the cellars, the shrines...' Azeez paused 'Shall I look in the shrines again?'

'Go ahead...' Akbar nodded, relieved that he would be able to contemplate in solitude again. And as soon as his student had hurried off in the opposite direction, the young man went back to silently reciting the only clue he knew - Durga's final message.

Jiji ran around the Haveli ...

Every trick uncanny...

Every nook and cranny...

But never did she find me...

He recalled the rhyme for the umpteenth time, racking his brains for an alternate interpretation of its contents. And it was sometime during this exercise that a few 'telling' words in each line gradually started standing out.

Jiji ran around the Haveli, with her eyes opened wide

Every trick uncanny, she may have tried

Every nook and cranny, she may have spied

But never did she find me, because I know how to hide!

Focussing on these new words as fresh cues, he tried to work a new angle to the entire mystifying puzzle

'A place where BOTH sisters RAN AROUND... a place which is probably NOT a nook or cranny... a place you can look around, with your eyes opened wide...'

His steps slowed down. His glances panned across the entire breadth of the haveli, surveying its sweeping interiors from where he stood 'Ai Khuda...' a quiet outcry escaped his lips, as he realised the spot that he was at.

It WAS a place where both sisters could run around.

It WAS a place that had no nook or cranny.

And it WAS a place from where you could look all around, with eyes opened wide.

It was also the only place they hadn't searched yet - the Hallways!

Originally posted by: lashy

Thank you my darlings...

GM Banjaras and Baisas 🤗

Woookay coffee time! Ciao see you soon!

P.S. Harshu - I will respond to your OS in a day or two ok, dear? 🤗

Payal, Bindup, Pooja, Sandhya, Akanksha & Shagun, I will reply soon.. I haven't forgotten about your beautiful replies 🤗

Originally posted by: lashy

<font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif">Thank you my darlings...</font>

<font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif">GM Banjaras and Baisas🤗</font>

<font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif">Woookay coffee time! Ciao see you soon!</font>

<font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif">P.S. Harshu - I will respond to your OS in a day or two ok, dear?🤗</font>

<font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif">Payal, Bindup, Pooja, Sandhya, Akanksha & Shagun, I will reply soon.. I haven't forgotten about your beautiful replies🤗</font>