| 'Time' Series: Book One |
| 'Time' Series: The Azar-Dogra-Sassoon Saga. |
**************************************************************************************************
In "Secrets Hidden in Time," a riveting tale unfolds as Hinduja Rao...
The white sheet on the mahogany table was filled with sophisticated cursive penmanship all in the hues of royal blue. Each corner of every English alphabet was penned with precision and just the right amount of pressure. He put the cap on the silver nib of his pen and inserted it into the pen stand next to his desktop. Numerous chart-papers with blueprints of various upcoming government buildings and sky-scrapers drawn with charcoal pencils were laid out on the table.
The hour hand struck to six, and the gleaming little bob reached its extreme as the ancient wall clock echoed its familiar old symphony. He adjusted his rimless glasses with the tip of his index finger as his eyes automatically averted to the sketch of the state of the art hospital building that was assigned to the company by the Ministry of Defence. It was a palliative care center that was to be built in attachment to the Military Hospital in Delhi Cantonment. Officers of all three services from the Northern Command visited the Dogra group's headquarters in the morning. It was a hectic day, and at the current moment, it felt as if his head would be blasting anytime now - a terrible migraine.
There was a major issue involved in this project.
Sighing, he arranged all the stationery items at their designated places, closed all the files, and kept the sketches in their folders.
A minute later, he was walking towards their room. They were back to his penthouse apartment at the Leela Sky Villas. The Dogra Manor was solely constructed by his ancestors for the head of the empire and his/her family, but he plumped for this apartment over that humongous manor lo and behold. The older Dogra couple, on the other hand, lived back in their palatial manor in Dehradun.
He could hear faint sounds of footsteps. The corner of his lips upturned languidly for a quarter of a second, and then they were back to normal. He pushed the silver door knob as it creaked, and entered the room.
And there she was, still clad in one of the cotton sarees she wore to her office every day, today its color being baby blue. Her hair, like always, were in a low and tight formal bun.
Something that he had noticed in the past two months of them getting acquainted with each other and the past fifteen days of their marriage was that she always wore her sarees in a way that not even a millimeter of her waist was visible to naked eyes. The blouses were also pretty conservative and modest in style with Chinese collars. Quite a few times, he had seen her wearing black or navy blue formal pants and coats with white or sky blue button-down shirts. In a sense, her clothes were always simple, formal, and exuded a dignified aura. Even at home, it would always be classic - a pair of cotton pants, short or knee length kurtas with elbow length sleeves and accompanying them would either be an authentic Pashmina shawl or a cotton dupatta completely wrapped around her shoulders, chest and neck area.
