Thakur Baari's Heirloom

Part (Chapter?) 1

Deeply absorbed in her thoughts, Meghaa paced in front of the bed. She went to and fro and to again, before flopping down unceremoniously on the mattress, fiddling with her thumbs. It was 6 P.M. and only a while ago, she received an invitation to a party which would start in like...an hour. The timing was slightly annoying, but honestly, she had in fact, handled worse. Yet when she stared at her almost empty wardrobe, she sighed.

Be it murder, theft or kidnapping, Meghaa was always ready for any and all of these. But deciding on party wear? Or even finding something casual to dress up in? Not in at least another hundred years.

Meghaa Das- A.K.A. Titli - was a professional detective. The best one at that. (Fear not, it's not just because she's the main character here.) The zero unsolved cases in her file and the number of monthly mafia threats she received would readily attest to her intellect and calibre. And much to her chagrin, neither her nickname nor the given one, made for a catchy agent code. But, of course, like any real adult, she had come to terms with this particular woe a couple of decades ago. And now no one could catch her whining about it, unless a few glasses of vodka were downed.

Titli sighed again and got up. The bareness of her wardrobe be damned, she decided to put together as fancy an outfit as possible. She rummaged around in the top shelf and rescued the last non-crumpled top of hers, whose flat neckline perfectly accentuated her collarbones, and paired it with a matching skirt. Both, of the exact same solid black colour. Deciding to let her hair down for the evening, she looked into the mirror.

(Brace yourselves, this is where I dump the first character description. Looks-wise.)

Objectively speaking, Titli was beautiful: 5'4", wavy hair, dusky complexion, complete with full lips, sharp jawline and even sharper eyes. A long patch of old burn scar ran up along half the length of her left arm; a badge of honour in itself. Her keen gaze and the knowing smirk she flashed at every opportunity, gave Titli an intelligent look. Needless to say, her personality reflected well on her appearance.

Titli was just about done with her makeup when her phone rang.

"Hello and good evening Rani Shahiba, aaponar chaakhor haajhir! (Hello and good evening Queen, your servant has arrived!)" Jyotin's voice boomed out once the phone was put on speaker, "Where are you, Milady?"

"Coming. 2 minutes." Titli rolled her eyes.

"Oi, don't you dare eye-roll-zone me!"

How he guessed her reaction over a mere phone call was beyond her. But then again, it was Jyotin Bose after all. Meghaa's partner in crime (solving?) since like forever and one of the top detectives in their firm, second perhaps to only Meghaa herself. (Well duh, he is the sidekick here.)

"...I didn't."

"Uh-Huh, sure."

"Yes."

By the end of the conversation, Titli went down to her building entrance and saw a sleek black Sedan pull up right in front of it. (I clearly have no idea what kind of cars detectives use or if they even exist for that matter, so please excuse me. Just assume it's all company funded etc. Details schmeetails, amirite?)

Leaning against the passenger side of the car, Jyotin waved at Meghaa. He proceeded to exaggeratedly bow and hold the door open for her. The dimple on his right cheek showed up every time he smiled and he made sure to do that way too many times in the span of the few minutes it took Titli to get inside the car. On top of that, clad in a well pressed tuxedo with properly combed hair while being so obviously polite, he almost looked like -

"A butler." Titli blurted out.

"EXCUSE ME?"

"Yup, you look like a butler alright."

"AND HERE I THOUGHT YOU WERE STARING AT ME BECAUSE I LOOK AMAZING TONIGHT!?"

Aaaand the dramatics were back. Well, so was the normal Jyotin.

"So you want me to compliment you and your pretty attire? Aww..." Meghaa teased back.

"Oh shut up! I don't wanna hear anything from you. Definitely not before you shrivel and age a few decades or something!" (Jyotin is truly a brain fart, his shitty comebacks aren't my responsibility.)

"Ooo so you are into older women now? I see."

At this, Jyotin simply slammed his door shut and huffed before driving off towards the party venue.

***

No matter how many times Titli walked into it, she could never get used to the blinding spectacle the Thakur Estate has always been. Perhaps, that's exactly what's expected from a multi - millionaire family like the Thakurs', but still. Be it the gardens, or the fountains in front or even the extremely detailed architecture of Thakur Baari (Thakur Bungalow) itself, everything was excellently planned and built, despite being a relatively older establishment whose centenary was being celebrated that night.

Inside Thakur Baari, everything was in a buzz. People from every walk of life were present and were engaging in "polite conversations". Or rather, "socially mandated small talk", as Jyotin would prefer to call it. The low chatter, soft yellow lights and the shiny chandeliers lent the entire hall an elegant atmosphere. Light instrumental music floated in from one corner of the room.

"Setar..." Meghaa smiled, recognising the instrument immediately, "Leave it up to Riya to blend classical music even into a fancy house party like this." Jyotin hummed in agreement.

In the farthest edge of the room, a glass enclosure caged the highlight of the party - the prestigious royal emerald ring, reflecting light in an eerily bright shade of green. It was the pride and the very emblem of the Thakurs: The Thakur Baari's Heirloom. Passed down and treasured by generations and currently in possession of Riddhima Thakur.

"Titli!" Riya squealed and pulled Meghaa into a Riya-hug (which was worse than a bear-hug), the moment she started relaxing and looked around.

Meghaa has known Riya for quite a long time now. Since her childhood, to be precise. And despite them being literal polar opposites, they are just as close now as they were back when they were still kids.

" I suppose, you are Jitin, or was it Jyotin?" Riddhima, Riya's older sister, greeted Jyotin with a handshake.

" It's Jyo-" Jyotin started, when Riya interrupted, " Jyotin -Jyotin Bose A.K.A....Titli's slave?" She decided to simply drop this random inside joke and disappear giggling. (Girls gossip, okay? That's how Riya knows Jyotin and their stupid inside jokes. And since it's an inside joke, I also have no idea about what cringe stuff these two are up to.)

" Well, I much prefer the term co-worker or teammate or - or even assistant." Jyotin scoffed irritably, at which Meghaa and Riddhima both burst out laughing.

"What?" Jyotin was going to protest (more like pout,) some more, when suddenly, a shrill scream tore through the hall for a muted second before everybody started murmuring again.

Meghaa and Jyotin shared a quick glance and hurried to the front where the scream seemingly came from. They waded through the agitated crowd, only to find Riya kneeling on the floor.

"The ring- the ring is gone!" Riya stuttered, wide - eyed in shock.

(I mean, the story is titled Thakur Baari's Heirloom. Of course, it'll be stolen, duh.)