APRIL 10, 2021
EPISODE 8
Phone navigation told Pallavi she was en route to Raghav Rao’s residence but her eyes told her she was on a treacherous winding road with deep forest to one side and a cliff edge on the other. The higher she climbed the more splendid the views became. The city lights twinkled below and from this perspective Hyderabad did seem to deserve its romantic sobriquet: city of pearls.
But it seemed inconceivable to her that a man like Raghav Rao with his glittering casino lifestyle would live in such isolation. She began to grow convinced she was lost. She pulled the scooter to the side and called Krishna.
Krishna was a knowledge bank on Raghav Rao. He terrified her yet she knew everything about him. Everything. From the material to the minutiae.
Had she not known Krishna better, Pallavi might have found her obsession with the local gangster more than a bit disturbing.
Krishna assured her: “You’re on the right road, Didi. The palace is called Falaknuma for a reason. Keep going. Right to the top of the hill.”
Falaknuma. Jewel amongst the clouds.
“And best put on the burqa before you approach the palace gates,” Krishna advised. “There will be high security with cameras everywhere.”
“I already have it on,” Pallavi said.
Indeed, Pallavi had slipped on the borrowed burqa soon after she exited the main road. She would sooner jump off this cliff than risk being recognized by Raghav Rao.
“Why must every encounter with this detestable man involve elaborate disguise?” she continued. “If you don’t hear from me by eight, send the police.”
Krishna gave a laugh.
Pallavi remonstrated, “I’m perfectly serious, Krishna. You keep reminding me how dangerous a figure he is, and then you laugh when I express legitimate fear.”
“It wouldn’t help to call the police. They’re all in his pocket,” Krishna giggled.
Pallavi returned to the path and just as Krishna had promised, within a few minutes the palace gates appeared. But the high security Krishna had warned her of was less than pathetic.
She told the guards she was Farhad’s sister and was bringing him a change of clothing—and the gates of Falaknuma opened to welcome her.
***
Another short drive brought her to the building and in the approach she was—against her will—envious and impressed. Envious that this man lived within such constant beauty at his fingertips. Impressed that this man possessed the aesthetics to match his affluence.
We all know, Sisters, that the wealthy are not necessarily blessed with good taste.
It was evident that Raghav Rao had asked the architect of his new Sagar Lake mall to borrow design elements from this palace—because the façade and the courtyard were traceable in the drawings Baba had shown her earlier.
Pallavi felt a twinge of sadness as she admired the building.
As far back as she could remember, beautiful places—whether manufactured or natural—always evoked a strange sadness in her. She attributed it to her early life when her parents had been alive. Perhaps experiencing beauty now triggered lost memories of beautiful times past.
She had once believed that that sadness would dissipate once she found love. It had not. She smiled at her past romantic naïvete. What a difference a year makes?
Shrugging off these gloomy thoughts, she refocused on the task at hand.
The plan hatched by her and Krishna was that she would enter the palace covered in a burqa pretending to be Farhad’s sister.
Did Farhad have a sister?
Krishna said everyone had a sister, cousin-sister, sister-in-law, friend-sister, sister’s friend . . . it was generic enough and it would work.
Once within the grounds, she would gain entry into Raghav Rao’s living quarters and leave the jacket and ring in a hidden place.
Where?
Krishna told her that finding a hiding place ought to be the least of her worries.
What should be her highest worry?
Everything else.
Had the task been to deliver the jacket alone, she would have sent it by courier. But Pallavi would not trust her ring to indifferent hands. She had to put it in a place where Raghav alone would find it. And thus there could be absolutely no possibility of it going missing.
Strange though it sounds, she trusted the ring on only two fingers. Ideally, hers. But if not that—than his. As long as he had the ring—the possibility of purchasing it from him in the future remained alive.
The final stage of the plan would be executed once she was safely off palace grounds. She would stop to borrow someone’s phone, call Raghav Rao and tell him where the items were hidden.
What could possibly go wrong?
Edited by JalebiJane - 4 years ago
