CHAPTER 7
Refusing to prance around the stables, like most young foals would, the animal lay coiled upon a soft bundle of bale, its head hanging low and its eyes unusually droopy. Evidently, its quivering legs had become too weak to support its weight. In fact, its little body had become so lethargic that it was even ignoring the comforting company of its own mother.
Stepping into the enclosure, the owner approached the animal slowly to avoid frightening it, but it didn't react. He stroked its back, simultaneously whispering a few familiar commands to gauge its response - but the foal's ears failed to twitch. As he placed a firm palm under its jaw to examine how abnormal its beats were, his expressions turned graver.
The owner had gotten his answer.
When it came to his animals, Akbar Khan despised any kind of bad news. After all, he believed that his horses asked for little, gave back a lot and showed him the kind of unwavering loyalty that could rarely be expected from another man. So, not surprisingly, these sort of situations were one of the few instances where life managed to evoke an emotion in him.
Anticipating the worst, he went on to ask the question he hated asking 'Ibrahim, what did Hakim Sahib say? Will it survive?'
Ibrahim paused, knowing his master wasn't going to like the answer 'Hakim Sahib is not very sure it will...'
'Ya Allah' letting out a low frustrated grunt, he stared at the ill foal for a moment, before giving it a final pat behind its ears 'Continue giving it the medicines...' he ordered the stable-boy who was awaiting instructions.
In a heartbeat, he then left that enclosure, to attend to the other horses and sheds - a routine the man led, whatever the circumstances. And in his absence, a routine that his trusted aides maintained just as systematically.
Walking the lengths of the stables with his hands behind his back, Akbar's glimpses combed through every nook and cranny of the dynamic scenes around him. Even amongst that large group of very brusque and brisk men, he stood strikingly tall and prominent. And he commanded that prominence despite the fact that he was no elite highborn like other merchants - if anything, he believed in rolling up his sleeves and getting his hands dirty whenever the need arose. The sole reason he commanded that level of prominence was because of his personality and achievements.
'Salaam Sahib!' a stable manager wished him, as he passed by
'Salaam...' he wished the manager back, before reverting his attention to the three men flanking him
'How many horses have been prepped for the auction?'
'23...' replied Azeez 'Do you want to choose the ones you deem fit and ready?'
'Yes... and then we can leave for the auctions soon after...' he confirmed, before he was interrupted again
'Salaam Sahib...' gestured yet another stable manager, with a humble adaab
'Salaam salaam...' he hurried the manager on.
As a master, Akbar preferred lofty actions from his people, not such lofty gestures - and his employees were well aware of his preferences. Regardless, they adhered to these formalities out of gratitude. Because, they knew that every skill they'd learnt, every rupee they earned and thus every meal they ate, wouldn't have been possible if it were not for the hard work of their 25 year old master, Akbar Mahmoud Khan.
At the age of 19, he'd began venturing into the complicated competitive world of buying and selling horses. Inheritance, he had none - be it, money, house or family. Yet, his brilliance, hard work and self-learning won over all odds. By 25, he had learnt everything there was to learn about horses. Mastered every aspect of commerce that could be mastered. By 25, he was monopolising most of the horse-trade, south of the capital.
And no, this wasn't an achievement that could be sustained by hard work alone. There were just as many instances where he'd had to be street-smart and manipulative too.
For instance, much like the homeless outcast he'd once been, most of his staff were people who'd been picked up from the streets. Sharing a similar background with his men meant he could understand their sentiments well - but it also meant he knew how to play tough to get what he wanted. Gifted with an uncanny knack of being able to spot an honest man, Akbar trained the men he chose very well, while keeping the shrewdest tricks of the trade to himself. This gave him the advantage of having an efficient and loyal work force - but, it also ensured his position remained unchallenged.
Thence, if not gratitude, it was awe. If not awe, it was fear. Any which way, the authority he commanded was irrefutable.
'Salaam Sahib...'
'Salaam...'
With a cursory nod, he continued walking forward - his mind on the next subject already 'That dealer... Bolaram... has he settled accounts?'
'No... he still hasn't paid up...'
'It's been more than a month, hasn't it?'
'Yes...'
'Sayyid' he immediately called forth his mate most suited for the job 'Once we've returned from the auction... please pay the dealer a visit!'
'Certainly!' the large man nodded - a faint grin breaking out on his lips
Following a short lull, 'Ibrahim' uttered Akbar, his eyes still busy monitoring the barns 'Come on... you can spit out whatever it is that's playing on your mind! Even by your standards, you've been unusually silent!'
Caught off guard, Ibrahim briefly faltered. Yes, he DID have something on his mind - but seeing how his Sahib wasn't having a particularly good morning, he'd avoided bringing it up - at least, until now 'Actually...' he sighed 'Do you think I might be able to return home for some time... take some time off?'
Akbar stopped in his tracks.
His expressions steely, he turned to face the three men. His most loyal aides. Three men who possibly came closest to being the family he never had
'Sahiiib!'
'MOOOVEEE...'
With a deafening yell, he suddenly nudged Sayyid and Azeez aside, before lunging forward to push Ibrahim away.
In a flash, a massive stallion had ferociously thundered through, trampling over the very spot where the men had just stood upon. By the time anyone could make sense of the startling scenes, it'd charged ahead, toppling over pails of water, knocking through bales of hay and unsettling the remaining animals in the sheds. Amidst the cacophony and uproar that arose, a few daring stable boys threw themselves at the beast to stop it in its tracks - but the unruly horse was in no mood to be tamed. It managed to dodge them all, even wounding a few men by kicking them away with its powerful hind legs.
'Hold its reins'
'No... grab its saddle' they yelled one over the other
'Pull its mane... that should get it to slow down!'
'THAT'S ENOUGH!' the booming command brought about a temporary respite to the uproar 'LET IT GO...' he immediately added, predicting that the only outcome of such reckless tussles would be further injuries and damage.
And his order couldn't have been more well-timed - because the very next instant, the raging horse had butted into the perimeter fence, thus breaking a few wooden planks - and sped off through the gap into the fields.
'We'll chase it down...' they offered
'I'll fetch it for you, Sahib...' another vowed, heroically
'NO!' his glares indicated towards the mess around them 'There's enough to be taken care of here, first...'
Then; he blew a sharp distinctive whistle.
Out trotted the most majestic steed brandishing a rich coat of shiny black - its attitude, height and rippled musculature perfectly suited to its master's personality.
Not only did the animal identify the tune of this distinctive whistle every single time, it could also understand the mood of its master from the underlying tones in it.
And right now, it knew that something was annoying his Sahib.
'Bahadur' stroking the back of the animal that was his closet friend and pet; Akbar spoke in a language that only the two of them understood 'Chase him around the fields... tire him down... and lead him back here...' as soon as he gave the stallion a strong pat on its back, it dashed off in the direction of the fields, in pursuit of the errant horse.
'Wonder what set it off like that...' quipped the men
But, Akbar had already guessed.
Turning around, he inspected the stall from which the stallion had escaped - the odd sights he saw therein only confirmed his guesses. The gawky inexperienced stable boy had manhandled the horse so badly, that it was behaving like a frenzied lunatic to show its frustration
'That rascal, Gafhoor!'
The spite in his manner barely hidden, he began taking long strides in the direction of the stall, bringing the chaos in the surroundings to a near standstill. Everyone watched in alarm - wondering what the fate of the boy would be! 'WHAT do you think you were doing?'
'Sahib...' picking himself up from his spot, the nervous attendant approached the man, trying not to bother with the many jeers and sneers being targeted at him by the rest 'I'm sorry Sahib...' noting how his master's stares were sharper than the edges of a razor, he decided to wipe the sheepish smile off his lips 'I was only trying to...'
'THAT horse' Akbar cut short the many explanations that were about to come 'has been patient with you... I have been patient with you... if you cannot learn the job properly... you cannot be worthy of my employment... consider yourself dismissed!'
'Nooo sahib... please hear what I have to say...'
Letting out a long sigh, Akbar redirected some of his annoyance towards the man he held partially responsible for this fracas 'Ibrahim...' his questioning frowns demanded, silently yet sternly 'I specifically asked you to find a better replacement soon...'
'I know...' Ibrahim responded with an apologetic nod 'And I AM on the lookout...but...'
'Ai Khuda!' Akbar exhaled a mild scoff. Ibrahim Mirza was a man more efficient than most - and if HE was being tardy at finding a replacement, the best explanation had to be that the cunning stable boy had somehow gotten to his soft-heart
In the breather that followed, Gafhoor had found his golden opportunity.
Having observed the hush exchanges between not-so-lenient employer and somewhat-lenient employer's friend, he instantly knelt at Ibrahim's feet, taking everyone by surprise - most of all, Ibrahim himself
'Mirza Sahib... please speak on my behalf... please tell Khan sahib that I'm sincere and dedicated...'
'NO!' Ibrahim shook his head in the negative, taken aback by the latest development 'Khan Sahib knows and decides for himself who can stay and who can leave... I work for him like you do...'
'But, please tell him what I told you... that I have three mouths to feed...'
The friend looked up and viewed straight ahead, unresponsive to the pleas. Yes, his conscience felt the boy deserved a second chance, but no, he wouldn't speak up about it. Not if it he'd have to defy his master in public to do so. After all; Akbar wasn't only friend and employer, he was guide and guardian too. So little surprise that Ibrahim treated his word as law 'NO Gafhoor!' he yelled, as sternly as he had in the last instance
'Please Mirza sahib...' the boy paused to wipe a tear 'My brother will die, out of hunger!'
'Oh stop!' for a man who hated drama of any sort, his patience had been drained many moments ago. Towering over the pleading boy, Akbar grabbed him by his collar and straightened him up, like one would sort out a wilted sack 'Do you think I don't see what games you're playing at?' a few moments later, he darted his tight-lipped friend an irate half-glance and then went on to pronounce a verdict - a verdict that actually stunned all present there 'I'm granting you another chance, but remember it's your LAST...' giving his collar a brisk jolt to let him know he meant business, Akbar tossed back the stable boy from his clutches 'Now get going!'
Tripping from the force of the sudden release, the elated stable attendant stumbled over his own feet as he attempted to stand up 'Thank you, sahib... thank you... may Allah bless you!' still unable to believe his luck, he retraced his way towards the stables with his hands tightly clasped together as a mark of gratitude - an otherwise touching display that somehow failed to have an effect on the master.
Of course, Ibrahim Mirza wasn't the only mate surprised by the fact that the stable boy had been given a second chance - something Akbar rarely did. However, if there was one thing they'd learnt in their 5 years of association with the man, it was to expect the unexpected!
Not long after, the rambling horse was on its way back, with Bahadur hot on its tail. Obviously, the exercise had helped calm its frayed temperament down. With its trot much slower now, it didn't take long for the stable boys to be able to catch it by its reins and lead it back towards its stall.
The situation tackled at long last, Akbar turned to face his mates.
After staring at his friend for a moment, Akbar broke the silence with an unexpected question
'So, how is bhabhijaan?'
Ibrahim raised an inquisitive brow 'Actually, she's not very well...'
'Then you must be beside her now...'
'And you arrived at that conclusion because...'
'You requested some time off, Ibrahim. When was the last time you did so?' his voice ebbed into a gentler wave 'Go on...spend some time at home... later on, you can join us at the auction...' he indicated towards the pathway that led to the exit 'Khuda Hafiz!'
'Khuda Hafiz!' responded a grateful Ibrahim, thereafter beginning to make his way out
No sooner than Akbar had begun proceeding in a different direction to attend to other affairs, Azeez called out from behind
'An interesting morning indeed... you have another visitor...' he chirped 'Harka Sa...'
And just as his pace dropped slightly, Azeez completed the rest of the statement 'ahiba's maid is here to see you...'
Akbar threw a glare over his left shoulder, and noticed the profile of a young maid crossing the meadow 'Ai Khuda' his jaw tightened. Neither did he have the time, nor the patience for this 'I leave it to you to save this lady from my wrath this morning!'
The guest quarters...
She peeked closely, scouring through the many small compartments of that inlaid box. On spotting the tiny piece of medicinal bark she was after, Heera picked it up and dropped it into the mortar along with the rest of the herbs. What followed, was a soothing musical clinking of her bangles as she pounded the herbs into a fine mixture.
After a short while, she checked its texture by rubbing a pinch of it, onto her palm - and double-checked its potency by breathing in its scents.
When satisfied, she scooped up with the tip of her little finger, the exact amount required for the kind of injuries she was treating. It was an amount so minuscule and yet a quantity so accurate, that most would require a measuring spoon to achieve that feat 'Not too little... not too much...' she followed her Guru's advice, before checking the temperature of the oil and dropping the portion into it. Within moments, the herbs had begun reacting, its soft vapours pouring over and out of the bowl 'Take it...'
'Yes baisa...' her aide received the goblet, still reeling from the beauty of what she'd just witnessed. Granted, she'd seen it a thousand times before - and undoubtedly, she missed the sparkling smiles that used to be an eternal characteristic of her mistress' face. However, watching the Lady work her magic with the herbs was as alluring a phenomenon today - as it'd been the first time she'd seen it!
'Have it massaged onto the swelling...' Heera instructed, ensuring that her face did not reflect the many concerns she had for the guards' health 'At once, please...'
'Yes baisa...'
'Did it ever strike you as odd, baisa?' asked Mohan thereon, his words thin and raspy from trying to speak through the painful twitches in his leg 'That the merchant mentioned 'Aidabad' but never told us he belonged to this place?'
'Or that he owns a mansion here...' reminded Daya, whose condition was only marginally better than the chief-guard's
'It would've struck me as odd, if both our parties were meeting casually... but, our meeting wasn't casual or friendly, was it?' As she washed her hands in a bowl of water, her brows knitted pensively 'So, while we didn't reveal anything about ourselves, we can't expect a stranger to volunteer all that information to us.'
She paused to help herself to the dry cloth being handed by the chief maid - the chief maid, who was quietly watching on, impressed by the sensible explanation and yet wondering if her baisa could come up with that explanation so promptly because she'd already spent time mulling over the stranger.
'Anyway' continued Heera 'Why are you distressing yourself over all this when you have to rest, banna?'
'Because every waking second I worry for your safety, baisa... we are stranded... in this old haveli... that belongs to an unfamiliar man... in an unknown city...' a particularly strong cramp forced him to interrupt his confessions shortly 'It... it' he grunted in agony 'It's my duty to protect you... instead, you're the one caring for me...'
Heera was aware of precisely what - or rather, 'whom' the guard was referring to. So, while she put her herbs away, she attempted to put his fears to rest too 'If something was to happen to me here, banna... trust me, it would have happened to me by now... so, fret not!'
'What!'
'How do you know?'
Well, Heera just knew. Because if something bad was supposed to happen to her, it would have happened when she was alone, vulnerable and defenceless. When she'd recklessly wandered away from her people. When she was stranded with this 'unfamiliar man', who was thrice as strong as her and armed too.
'What made you say that, baisa?'
'How do you know?'
'I know because my instincts tell me so... and I trust my instincts!' she deliberately adapted a stern tone, knowing the enquiries would never end otherwise, thus putting an end to all their discussions on the matter.
Later, when she'd finished shutting her medicine box, a gut-wrenching shriek echoed from the corner. Her spirits instantly plunging many notches lower, Heera looked up. It was Mohan, reacting to the treatment being carried out on his leg
'Ma Bhavani ... please help him...' she prayed, desperately wishing for this dose of medicines to stop the infection from spreading and help relieve the pain. Because most other remedies she'd tried over the past 2 days weren't showing any improvement - which could only imply that she was dealing with a kind of venom that wasn't commonly known.
And as if the misery and worry wasn't enough, the lack of progress in their health also reminded her of another troubling fact. That their party would not be able to leave for Bansi in the next couple of days as she'd originally presumed.
'Jiji... give me strength!' her thoughts soldiered on, as she realised how the unfortunate delays affected them all 'I was hoping to begin making plans for Parnagarh's future as soon as I reached Bansi... but...' her throat swelled up with emotions, deeply saddened by the sight of her chief-guard writhing in agony 'If we're staying behind for longer... I might have to start my agenda... here... at Aidabad...'
'Baisa...'
'Harka Baisa...'
The myriad of shrill-pitched hollers drew her attention towards the entranceway. From the hurried tinkling of anklets echoing one over the other, she knew a bevy of maids were anxiously seeking her out
'What's the matter?'
'Baisa... quick... you have to come with us...'
'But, why??'
'We'll explain on the way... But please come now...'
The corridors...
'Please tell me she hasn't gone all alone...'
'But, she has!'
'Lord...' sighed Heera, suddenly tempted to grow just as concerned as the remaining ladies. A confrontation between an impulsive young lady like Bindiya and an unsympathetic young man like the merchant could spell potential trouble for the entire group - the sort of trouble they could definitely do without at this point 'All right, ladies...' maintaining a brave front, the heiress pulled the veil over her face, preparing to join the young girl before matters worsened 'Gauri... please take me to...'
'But, it's too late to intervene...' informed Dhani 'She's already with him now...as we speak!'
'Baisa... please come over to this window...' cued another maid, from the opposite end of the corridors 'I can see them conversing... in those meadows...'
In less than a moment, that announcement had generated a frenzied scuffle of skirts as the group of women rushed to the window that was to offer them the best view of the unravelling spectacle.
'Come here baisa... take your place here...' they said, reserving the best spot along the window frame for their mistress.
By the time Heera had made her way through the throng of ladies and taken her spot at the window, nearly half of the Parnagarh retinue had manifested in the corridors. Just as curious as they were nervous, everyone who'd assembled, wanted to catch a glimpse of the episode. And why wouldn't they? After all, it was not often that one of their own tended an apology to a vengeful Mughal trader, in public.
'There they are... at the meadows...'
'If you can't see it, we'll narrate it for you...'
'Can you see them, baisa?'
'Just about...' Heera admitted, straining to see the sights that'd raised such a ruckus 'But, why didn't she take someone else along with her?'
'I think... she wanted to prove that she was capable of doing this by herself!'
'And you let her go?' she asked, not too pleased by the developments
'Baisa... we had no idea where she was going... she marched out without telling us anything...'
'Lord' the heiress held her breath, hoping that nothing untoward should take place.
The rest of the maids however, were not so subtle about their apprehensions.
'I dread to think of Bindiya's fate!'
'Is he going to punish her?'
'I am sure he will... he's unforgiving!'
'Punish?' Heera frowned, reflecting upon their growing dislike for the businessman with an open mind. No doubt, she was innately concerned for young Bindiya and would do everything in her power to protect her from harm, if need arose. Yet, when she recollected her few interactions with the man, somehow she wasn't convinced that the merchant would punish a lone girl. That too, in public!
'Baisa, you didn't witness what occurred, a short while ago' another maid joined in, dropping her voice to a cautious whisper 'For some petty reason, the merchant grew enraged with a boy...now, this boy was about 15 or 16 and barely quarter his size... yet, the huge man picked him up by his collar and shook him so hard, the boy's spine was about to snap in two!'
Having listened to that dramatic narration calmly, she posed a level-headed question 'And what was the petty reason?'
'Baisa... the poor boy was careless and ended up hurting one of his horses... I think!'
'I see...'
'Ladies...' Dhani interrupted the commotion with the announcement that most were anticipating with angst 'Khan Sahib is saying something to Bindiya now...'
'And?'
Dhani paused for a short while, observing the proceedings closely 'He doesn't appear too pleased...'
'In fact, he looks irked!'
'Very irked!'
'Oh my...'
'Is she...'
'What's going on?' enquired Heera hastily, hoping the scenes weren't as bad as the women were making them out to be 'Please tell...'
'She...'
'Is she weeping?'
'Yes... she is! How sad...'
'Oh!' the heiress exhaled 'She mustn't have gone by herself... Gauri... come on... we must leave to...'
'I don't think there would be a need for that...' the chief-maid hastily attempted to compose her mistress' concerns 'Bindiya is making her way back... and the men are beginning to disperse too...'
'Already?'
'Yes...'
'Thank the Lord!' they heaved a sigh of relief, in unison
Following a prolonged lull of quiet murmurs, one maid decided to voice her views frankly 'He must have said something to humiliate her!'
'Yes...he must have!'
'Well, he IS a Mughal' a stifled retort arrived from one of the more daring ladies 'What else might one expect!'
That audacious remark managed to draw everyone's attention, and even earned her a disapproving stare from the heiress, but she knew she was only stating popular opinion
'Gauri... Dhani... Heera...'
The sad voice reverberating from the other end of the long corridors brought the chatter to a standstill. A thin veil of grimness shadowed their faces, as all eyes were fixated upon the archway through which she was supposed to enter
'Bindiya...' Heera dispelled the eerie spell as soon as the outline of the young lady became apparent 'Are you all right?'
From the numerous glances that suddenly hit her, it became obvious to Bindiya that she was the subject of their speculations all along. So, she decided to turn towards the one face that offered the most comfort of all 'Baisa...' walking up to the mistress, she stood beside her genteel profile 'My pride has been mortified!'
'What!'
'What did he do?' the women began crowding her
'Was it so bad?'
'Did he say something unimaginably horrid?'
'Ladies... please give her a moment!' Heera interceded with a kind gesture by dabbing the girl's tears for her. She did suspect that the meeting couldn't have been all that bad, seeing how the entire episode appeared to have ended quite swiftly. However, she decided to indulge the girl for a while in order to comfort her hurt ego 'What happened, Bindiya?'
Taking a short while to regain part of her composure, the maid began describing the events in her typically theatrical fashion 'I met the man... I... I... confessed that those remarks were made by me and not by our baisa ... and... and... I apologised profusely... but... but...'
'But...'
'He said that he already knew all that!'
'Already knew?' everyone became dumbstruck
'ALREADY KNEW?'
'How could he guess that it wasn't baisa making those remarks?'
'His words were...' Bindiya dabbed her face 'Anyone who's had half-a-conversation with our 'heiress' would know that she is incapable of being rude...' she grimaced, on recalling the painful encounter 'It seems, he'd already guessed that it had to be one of the unkind maids instead! Then... then... the rest of the men began sniggering too...'
'Oh my!' the maids exclaimed unanimously - alarmed, embarrassed and annoyed. While they were relieved that their mistress' name had been cleared, the remark was something they couldn't overlook 'One of the unkind maids instead?' How disgraceful! A punishment, they would have been prepared for. A mockery of their nature was something they couldn't come to terms with.
'The manner in which he dismissed that boy was frightening... the manner in which he dismissed me was humiliating...' she wiped the last tear off of her pretty cheeks 'I must confess, I do not think very highly of this strange man!' obviously, it didn't take long for nearly everyone present, to agree with her
'Me neither...'
'Me too...'
'No wonder he lives all alone...' a disgruntled maid added 'He's found no wife yet...'
'Obviously... who'd want to marry a man like him?'
'Actually, that's not entirely true!'
Everyone fell silent, gaping at each other dubiously, before turning to the one who'd baited their curiosity
'Dhani?'
'Well...' Dhani shrugged in defence, for having ruffled their illusions 'I spoke to the washerwoman who works at the haveli...' she explained, revealing how she'd come to know of a few things that no one else knew 'And she says that... several people have approached her master with marriage proposals... but, he's the one who has turned them down!'
'WHAT!' numerous audible gasps floated through
'Not only that... apparently, he doesn't visit women... doesn't touch alcohol... in fact, he doesn't even smoke the hukkah!'
'WHAT!' So far-fetched did those facts sound, that they refused to be convinced by any of it
'That is unbelievable!'
'That washerwoman must be lying, Dhani...'
'A powerful young merchant with no wife, no mistress and no weaknesses! Imagine that...' they dismissed the very notion.
'A handsome and powerful young merchant' Dhani added, unable to help her usual prankish self 'With no wife, no mistress and no weaknesses! What a pity!'
Not surprisingly, Dhani's antics managed to generate a few raised brows and chuckles - the bitterness and gloom from earlier steadily making way for something less melancholy.
Heera, on the other hand, continued to gaze outside the window, her expressions betraying nothing, while her thoughts were on a slightly different tangent.
Despite being familiar with their blatant fondness for gossip, the 'realist' in her was surprised by how their moods shifted so swiftly. Until a few moments ago, the maids hadn't been too pleased to learn that he had mocked them. Now that the women had found some fodder for their favourite pastime, they were doing just the same. Nevertheless, she'd wisely remained quiet all through. Neither did she want to sound preachy, nor did she participate in their daring speculations.
However; there WAS one fact she couldn't deny.
Unlike her normal etiquette, she was beginning to find herself paying quite some attention to their banters about this mysterious 'Khan Sahib' - more attention than she'd paid to any such frivolous banters before.
'By the way, Heera' rose Gauri's call from amidst the cacophony of chatter around them
'Yes Gauri...' she guessed from the tone that something was still nagging her companion
The chief maid took some time to weigh her words carefully 'I wonder what made him come to the conclusion that 'you' are our baisa... or that you're incapable of being rude!'
So effective was the query and the manner in which it'd been put forth, that it immediately killed all the remaining petty conversations within those walls.
Made instantly aware of the fact that she was the subject of everyone's close scrutiny, Heera peeped at the diamond ring on the finger that was delicately resting upon the window frame
'You know what...' she replied, cautious not to look Gauri in the eye, lest her little lie was caught 'I wonder how he came to that conclusion too!'
(Glossary of terms included in post below)
See you in a week's time...
A stone in the ring is more like a rauchtopaz (or bad lighting). Topaz and rauhtopaz are different minerals
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