अन्तः अस्ति प्रारंभः।
The end is the beginning.
A caterpillar dies, to birth a butterfly. Water evaporates to rain down. Dead carcasses fill the stomachs of vultures.Life gives way to death and death to life. In a vicious circle of different karmas...
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When Mihira connected what Eklavya was saying, Rukmanetra had crushed the chalk between his hands to powder.
(Darling second son. Are you a shadow? Are you afraid you will cease to exist, should your brother break?)
Eklavya continued,"The cultural officer. The city guard. The cook. The painter. They were all invited. The officer and the guard were supposed to marry soon. The cook and the painter are distant cousins."
Thoughtlessly, Mihira corrected him,"Were." Something flashed in Rukmanetra's eyes, a scar below his ear more pronounced as he looked away. She continued,"Ages, occupations and relations. We already have too many factors. But the common one is singular; they were all included in the Crown Prince's birth anniversary celebration."
Hiranandani's jaw clenched and she cupped her neck anxiously,"Someone has the invitation list." Mihira looked at her in question. They were all employees.
Rukmanetra explained with gritter teeth,"In any celebrations of the crown, all workers included in the celebration are always invited to the celebration itself."
Mihira nodded with a raised eyebrow. Interesting. Was the glady process inherited or made, she wondered privately.
Eklavya breathed in heavily,"This only makes things more complicated. Are only the employees murdered? Are they murdered because they work for the Crown? Will the murderer target the invited officials as well?"
Mihira smirked to herself as she answered sarcastically,"Well, I can understand the hatred for capitalism and empathise, but this is going a bit too far, is it not?"
Rukmanetra's lip twitched like he wanted to snarl but he did not react more than that. How disappointingly and maddeningly proper.
Eklavya glared at her silently while Hiranandani spoke,"Maybe, we should lay off the motives? We could retrace the steps by the cause of death?"
Rukmanetra nodded and leaned back, his tone final as he ordered,"Get the name of every trader who trades any part of datura for any reason. An interrogation must begin."
Mihira grinned as she entered the Shree Ram temple.
This was different from the rare remaining temples in Kaliyug. It was giant, magnificent and absolutely breathtaking. Her feet burnt slightly as she stepped on the marble but she had no care for it, this was the first time she was visiting the famous temple.
She hadn't been aware, but Maitri had informed her that it was the most famous temple in all of aryavrat for the way the idols were built, stone seemingly as soft as human skin.
What she hadn't been told, Mihira realised as she entered the garbhgriha. The idols of Shree Ram and Mata Sita were sitting. They sat on a huge throne, their knees touching and clothes coordinated. Mata Sita's lips were painted pink, like lotus flowers, and Shree Ram had clamped golden bracelets on his wrists, studded with some pink diamonds, in the shape of a couple of lotuses, that Mihira had never before seen.
