A huge , ornate tent with a saffron pennant flying high , beckoned her.
She walked in, hesitated, gingerly lifting the tent flap.
The air inside was cool , and perfumed with “ittar”, she recognised immediately.
There was a hushed silence .
Men, ornately dressed as Maratha warriors, sat against the fabric of the tent.
All were dressed in silk and pearls. Silken long kurtas, tight at the ankles churidars, strings of pearls swaying from their silken turbans,large swords with showy, bejewelled scabbards tied at hips.
At the far end , with a gigantic camel hair whisk slowly moving in arcs , sat the king.
He motioned to her with a bejewelled arm, softly tinkling and glinting with the gold and pearl jewellery , smelling of roses , again.
She stared mesmerised.
It was either a dream , or she had wandered into a movie set.
She walked in, hesitated, gingerly lifting the tent flap.
The air inside was cool , and perfumed with “ittar”, she recognised immediately.
There was a hushed silence .
Men, ornately dressed as Maratha warriors, sat against the fabric of the tent.
All were dressed in silk and pearls. Silken long kurtas, tight at the ankles churidars, strings of pearls swaying from their silken turbans,large swords with showy, bejewelled scabbards tied at hips.
At the far end , with a gigantic camel hair whisk slowly moving in arcs , sat the king.
He motioned to her with a bejewelled arm, softly tinkling and glinting with the gold and pearl jewellery , smelling of roses , again.
She stared mesmerised.
It was either a dream , or she had wandered into a movie set.
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