Hidden behind those red blindfolds, were curious eyes that once saw the world, soaked it's hue and carried dreams like every other girl. Gandhari, mother of 101 kids, sister of Shakuni but most importantly, she was yet another bird shackled by rules...
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"It is alright to shift blame at times."
"Then what is the truth?!" The prime minister bellowed.
"Was the letter that my daughter wrote on her deathbed a hoax? Was the pain false?" The prime minister questioned, more like accused Satkritah who bowed his head.
Under the accusation and pain of a father, the court went still or perhaps it was yet another dramatics to add flair to the show ahead.
"The witness, she was the maid of my wife and was dismissed from the household; she is bound to have enmity with our family. Your majesty, please look for someone with a neutral background." The gruff voice of Satkritah croaked. It had a speck of defeat in it but that was too obscure to be noted.
My gaze retracted back to my father who sat there, his brows furrowed and palms resting on the hand rest. For a nimesh, his lips pursed before he turned to the head investigator.
"Does the accusing party have any more proof except this maid?" He questioned.
"Your Majesty, the maid is the only witness. Please grant us a few days more for further investigation." The investigator pleaded, resulting in a series of murmurs trying to speculate the outcome of this case.
"Silence!" My father ordered and sighed. "I understand the case is a sensitive one and requires thorough investigation but the justice can not be delayed. The investigators are allotted an extension of two days to come up with more proof."
His decision was final, I crinkled my brows at the peculiar decision but neither the place nor time allowed me to put up my query just yet.
The rest of the court time was blurred out with every flutter of my eyes trying to stop myself from looking in the direction where Poornima was standing. My breathing felt ragged and my fingers twisted beneath the fleece of my dupatta. The court proceedings and chatter met with deaf ears, that were too busy to comprehend words, lies.
The face of Dviti intermixed with that of Satkritah creating a similarity of a convict and a victim. Both were decked with bruises, one apparent to eyes while the other, a vague reality shrouded by myths.
The time was moving faster than usual, slower than usual or was that me because rest seemed unaffected, unbothered by the waves of emotions crashing on my conscience.
By the time the court was dismissed, my palms were wet with my silent tears washing onto the wounds that my nails inflicted while digging onto them.
"I pity Nityasha, didn't even get a last glimpse of her sister." I heard a muffled chatter amongst the departing footsteps.
"Poor girl must be despondent after the loss. Both mother and daughter were missing." Another voice gossiped.
"Pity the entire residence." Someone sighed and amongst all this one thing was clear, I wasn't the only one feeling the pain of loss. The spectrum of pain was evident and I happened to be in a darker shade of it.
