Web of Ambition / خواہشات کا جال (Khwahishat Ka Jaal) follows the compelling story of Emaan Noor, a fiercely independent woman caught in the throes of her family's relentless pursuit of wealth and status.
Emaan's mother, Farzana Begum, is a woman of...
Meanwhile, as evening descended, Farzana Begum arrived at the Raisani Haveli for her work shift. The grand estate loomed before her, its towering gates and ornate façade illuminated by soft, ambient lighting. Farzana had always admired the haveli from a distance, but standing at its threshold, she felt a mix of awe and trepidation.
The house governor greeted her at the entrance, a stern but polite woman named Asia. "Mrs. Begum, please follow me," he instructed, leading her through the grand arched doorway. Farzana stepped inside, her eyes widening as she took in the opulence around her.
The entrance hall was a spectacle of luxury and grandeur. Marble floors stretched out in every direction, their polished surfaces gleaming under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. Intricately carved wooden panels adorned the walls, interspersed with lavish tapestries depicting scenes of historical and cultural significance. A sweeping staircase, with a handrail of carved mahogany and balusters of wrought iron, led to the upper floors.
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Farzana's eyes darted around, taking in every detail. The ceiling was an artwork in itself, with frescoes depicting celestial scenes, angels, and clouds. The air was filled with a subtle, sweet fragrance, likely from the fresh flowers arranged in elegant vases around the hall. Farzana could hear the faint, soothing sound of a fountain, its gentle splashes creating a serene ambiance.
As they walked deeper into the haveli, they passed through a series of grand rooms. Each room was a testament to the family's wealth and refined taste. There were drawing rooms with plush, upholstered furniture, gilded mirrors, and fine Persian rugs. Portraits of the Raisani ancestors lined the walls, their eyes seeming to watch over the estate with a dignified air.
They finally arrived at the main living area, where the lady of the house, Saira Effendi, was seated. Saira was a picture of grace and elegance, dressed in a beautifully embroidered saree, her hair perfectly styled, and her demeanor calm and composed. She was sitting in her painting studio, an armchair supporting her as she reclined with her eyes closed and a peaceful expression on her face.
The studio itself was a haven of creativity and tranquility. Large windows dominated one wall, allowing natural light to flood the room during the day. The evening light now filtered through the delicate lace curtains, casting a soft, diffused glow. The walls were adorned with various paintings, each a testament to Saira's talent and passion for art. Some were landscapes, others were portraits, but all were imbued with a sense of life and emotion.
In the center of the room, facing Saira, stood an easel with a painting covered by a cloth. The edges of the canvas hinted at vibrant colors and intricate brushwork, but the main subject remained hidden. However, on the side of the canvas, a shadow of a person was visible, suggesting a human figure with delicate features and a poised stance.
The studio was filled with the tools of her trade—paintbrushes of various sizes, palettes smeared with a spectrum of colors, and tubes of paint neatly arranged on a side table. A faint scent of oil paint and turpentine lingered in the air, mingling with the fresh aroma of the garden flowers that Saira liked to keep in a vase by the window.
