It hung on a nondescript , plain whitewashed part of the wall. Almost garishly ornate against the backdrop of stark whiteness. 'Like a heavily done up bride with a Buddhist monk."she thought to herself and smiled . She would often have these private conversations with herself, a small secret of hers.
They had bought it together. A pair of ornate Rajasthani jharokhas. Shaped like the onion domes so prevalent in the east, mimicking the jharokhas of yore ,where from coy members of the royalty, would give 'darshan' to the commoners. To further enhance the mystery , the window part would be covered with 'jaali'or lattices so that no one actually got to see the Maharani eye to eye.A flash of gold and red maybe as she breezed past, in all her snooty highness.She almost chuckled to herself, imagining people falling one on top of the other to catch a glimpse of a bejewelled hand waving or a flash of jingling gold, as someone turned away.
The jharokha itself cost a small fortune in packaging it and getting it transported all the way here, where it sat on the wall,in all its gold and brown, maroon, and shiny green, gaudiness.
Like a small magic carpet from the east, it had brought all the colours and chaotic bazaar noises, smells, to the grey stillness of the cold climes.
It had large, showy flowers, with their petals cheekily hanging out, intertwined vines , and scrolls with strange undecipherable chantings carved on it. It lit up the place and must have triggered many an animated conversations.She sighed wistfully. It was a good thing she decided to buy it on her last trip to India.
They had bought it together. A pair of ornate Rajasthani jharokhas. Shaped like the onion domes so prevalent in the east, mimicking the jharokhas of yore ,where from coy members of the royalty, would give 'darshan' to the commoners. To further enhance the mystery , the window part would be covered with 'jaali'or lattices so that no one actually got to see the Maharani eye to eye.A flash of gold and red maybe as she breezed past, in all her snooty highness.She almost chuckled to herself, imagining people falling one on top of the other to catch a glimpse of a bejewelled hand waving or a flash of jingling gold, as someone turned away.
The jharokha itself cost a small fortune in packaging it and getting it transported all the way here, where it sat on the wall,in all its gold and brown, maroon, and shiny green, gaudiness.
Like a small magic carpet from the east, it had brought all the colours and chaotic bazaar noises, smells, to the grey stillness of the cold climes.
It had large, showy flowers, with their petals cheekily hanging out, intertwined vines , and scrolls with strange undecipherable chantings carved on it. It lit up the place and must have triggered many an animated conversations.She sighed wistfully. It was a good thing she decided to buy it on her last trip to India.
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