Chapter 6
The Jaipur sun hit hard at noon.
Abhinav stepped off the private jet and felt the heat press against his face. Even through his sunglasses, the glare cut through. It felt harsher than Dubai. Cleaner. Unforgiving.
His charcoal suit, perfect for Dubai’s glass towers, felt misplaced here in a way he could not name.
Behind him, Sarita descended slowly, one hand on the rail. Silver threads in her sari caught the sun with each step. Fatigue still lingered, yet there was more strength in her than before, as if the air itself had begun to settle her.
Naina came last. At the bottom of the stairs, she paused and took in everything around her.
“It’s so bright,” she muttered, lifting a hand to shield her eyes. “And hot. Why did no one warn me it would be this hot?”
“It’s Rajasthan,” Abhinav replied. “What did you expect?”
At the terminal exit, Devendra stood waiting, hands joined.
He was older than Abhinav had imagined. Lean, composed, dressed in a white kurta with a Nehru jacket. His posture spoke of years spent serving a house with dignity. His eyes were observant.
Abhinav had threatened this man’s livelihood on the phone two months ago.
Devendra gave no sign of it.
Abhinav removed his sunglasses. “Mr. Chauhan.”
“Welcome, Hukum.”
Devendra inclined his head, precise in his greeting. When he turned to Sarita and Naina, his face softened.
“Thakurain Sa. Bai Sa. Welcome.”
Sarita folded her hands at once. “Devendra ji.”
Naina stepped forward and extended her hand, then caught herself and drew it back, folding her hands instead. The hesitation passed in a heartbeat. “It’s lovely to finally meet you. We’ve heard so much about you.”
A warm smile touched Devendra’s face. “You humble me, Bai Sa. The cars are ready.”
Abhinav put his sunglasses back on.
The drive from the airport should have passed without notice.
It did not.
Jaipur rushed past the tinted windows in flashes. Pink walls. Crowded crossings. Scooters weaving through narrow gaps. Old archways. Temple flags. Fruit carts spilling colour onto dust-lined roads.
The city pulsed with life. Dense. Layered. Breathing.
Naina leaned closer to the glass. “Look at that gate. And those buildings… Maa, is all of Jaipur pink?”
“Only the old city.” Sarita’s voice stayed soft. Her attention had drifted elsewhere. As they passed a temple, her hand lifted and touched the glass.
Abhinav leaned back and ran through his plan.
Arrive. Establish control. Review the records. End the interference. Sell. Return to Dubai.
Clear. Logical. Manageable.
Then the car turned onto the estate road.
Even through the cool air inside, something else reached him. Dry stone. Earth warmed under the sun. A scent that had not followed him to Dubai, but had not left him either.
He had been five the last time he had left. He remembered nothing of it. Not clearly. Still, his body reacted. A pull formed in his chest. Old. Unnamed.
He checked his watch.
“Stop checking the time,” Naina muttered, her gaze still on the window. “We’re almost there.”
“I know.”
“Are you nervous?”
“No.”
“You look nervous.”
“I’m not.”
A smile touched her lips. “Of course, Bhai.”
He did not answer. Because at that moment the gates came into view. And everything stopped being manageable.
It was the people.
Hundreds filled the entire approach. Colour and movement stretched as far as he could see. The sound struck the moment the window lowered.
Dhol drums thundered. The rhythm rolled through the air and settled deep within him. Dancers spun in bright lehengas. Red, gold, peacock blue skirts flaring wide with each turn.
Elderly relatives stood in clusters with marigold garlands thick as ropes. Servants lined the entrance with silver trays that flashed in the sun.
The air carried everything at once.
Rose water. Sweets. Oil lamps burned despite the daylight. Children wove through the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse. Women leaned over balconies, calling down.
The sound was overwhelming. Joyful. Unrestrained.
It felt like the Haveli had been holding its breath for years and had finally exhaled.
“Oh my God,” Naina breathed.
Sarita lifted a hand to her mouth. Tears came at once.
Abhinav leaned forward. He didn’t realize he had moved.
Beyond the crowd, the Haveli stood. Glowing. Massive. More than massive. Alive!
Anand Mahal rose before them like something out of time.
No photograph had prepared him. No report came close. Four centuries stood before him in stone.
He had been born here. His father before him. His grandfather. Every Anand before that. The weight of it settled in a place he had not known existed.
“Bhai,” Naina murmured, “it’s beautiful.”
He gave no answer.
The car came to a stop. Drums grew louder. Voices rose, merging into a chant. “Hukum has arrived. Hukum has arrived.”
The sound struck him in full when he stepped out.
Drums. Voices. Bells.
Heat pressed in as the crowd closed around him. Hands reached. Faces turned. Smiles opened wide. Marigolds brushed against him from every side.
Mahesh reached him first. His eyes shone. His smile held nothing back.
When he opened his arms, Abhinav stepped forward. Refusing would have been cruel. And whatever else he was, he was not cruel.
“You came,” Mahesh murmured against his shoulder, voice rough. “You finally came.”
“Chacha ji,” Abhinav answered.
When they drew apart, Mahesh’s hands stayed on his shoulders, studying him. “Welcome home, beta.”
Abhinav did not answer. He wasn’t sure there was an answer to that.
Rekha stepped forward with a heavy garland woven with marigolds and roses. As she placed it over his neck, the weight settled at once.
Her hands rose to his face. Light. Unsteady.
No words passed between them.
Rituals followed.
Mahesh circled an oil lamp around him. Rekha placed a sweet in his mouth. Rose water touched his skin. Rice brushed his shoes. Another garland joined the first.
Abhinav stood and accepted it all. Each gesture returned correctly. Measured. Appropriate. Every movement in place.
Inside, he felt detached.
His mother gave in to it. She moved past him to the entrance. Her palms pressed against the pink sandstone wall. Then her forehead. Her shoulders shook as tears came without restraint. Grief and homecoming had merged into one.
An elderly woman came to her side. Touched her shoulder. Cried with her.
Abhinav looked away. His gaze lifted to the facade. Stone elephants guarded the gate. Lattice screens filtered sunlight into shifting patterns across the floor.
Nothing here felt still. Everything moved. Subtly. Constantly. Alive.
Naina stepped beside him. Her voice dropped. “Bhai… did you know it would be like this?”
“No.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
She studied him. Said nothing more. Which said enough.
Mahesh folded his hands. “The meal is ready. But first, by tradition, the family should go to Kul Devi for her blessing.”
Abhinav adjusted the garlands around his neck. “Let’s go.”
The path to the temple ran through the center of the estate.
People moved aside as the family passed. Bells rang ahead. Sandalwood and jasmine thickened the air.
Abhinav walked with his mother’s hand resting in the bend of his arm. Tears kept slipping down her face, quiet, soundless. Her fingers clutched his sleeve, as if letting go might undo something she could not afford to feel all at once.
He glanced at her. At the grief etched deep. At the years that had carved their absence into her.
His grip tightened, drawing her closer. “Careful, Maa. The stones are uneven.”
She nodded, her voice refusing to come.
Naina stayed on Sarita’s other side. Her earlier spark had faded. She reached for her mother’s free hand and did not let go.
The three moved as one. Across the courtyard. Until the temple came into view.
It stood at the center of the Haveli.
Massive. Older. Simpler.
The silver threshold caught the light.
Inside, lamps flickered. Far within, barely visible, the black stone goddess sat surrounded by flame.
Abhinav stopped. His father had spoken of this place near the end. When everything else had begun to slip away. When names and dates blurred and only the oldest memories remained.
He had spoken the goddess’s name with a softness that had made Abhinav turn his face away. His father had died anyway. In pain. Stripped down piece by piece while they stood by and watched.
And this goddess had remained here. Unbothered.
The thought settled into him the way it always did. Cold. Familiar. His gaze on the temple went blank. He stood at the threshold and felt nothing that resembled devotion. He did not pretend otherwise. There was no reason for him to perform it.
Sarita’s grip tightened on his arm. She felt the change in him without looking.
“Hukum.” Devendra stood near the entrance, posture formal, expression warm. His gaze turned toward the inner chamber.
“Meera.”
The name struck.
Understanding came at once.
This was her. The woman who had blocked three buyers. Who had turned every move into a wall. Who had forced him out of Dubai and into this place.
A beat passed.
And Abhinav forgot how to breathe.