Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
A saringhee was brought; Zenat tuned it, and, taking the bow, played
a short prelude. It was one of the most entrancing sounds I had ever
heard. Zora surpassed all her former attempts; it was ravishing to
listen to her; and her sister, who was a perfect mistress of the
instrument (a strange thing for a woman), gave it its full force of
melody and expression. You know, Sahib, how nearly it accords to the
human voice; and now, as accompaniment and song rose and fell together,
it appeared as though two of the richest, fullest voices were pouring
forth strains such as angels might have come down from the skies to
hear.
But at last the noise of drums and shouting outside became so great,
that both gave up in despair. "A plague on them all," said she; "and I
in such voice, that I could have sung to you all night! And have I sung
well?"
"Ay, have you," said I; "but methinks the first song you ever sung to
me, at the palace in Oomerkhér, will dwell longer on my memory than any
I have heard since."
"Ya Alla!" exclaimed Zenat who had moved to the window; "was there ever
a sight so magnificent! Come and see; 'tis passing fast, and will be
soon out of sight."
CHAPTER XV.
Zenat's exclamation drew us to the window. "Quick!" she said; "look
out, or you will lose the sight; they are even now passing the Char
Minar." We did look out, and the sight was indeed magnificent. A crowd
of some hundreds of people were escorting a Punjah, that holy symbol of
our faith; most of them were armed, and their naked weapons gleamed
brightly in the light of numberless torches which were elevated on
lofty bamboos; others bore aftab-geers, made of silver and gold tinsel,
with deep fringes of the same, which glittered and sparkled as they
were waved to and fro by the movements of those who carried them. But
the object the most striking of all was the Char Minar itself, as the
procession passed under it; the light of the torches illuminated it
from top to bottom, and my gaze was riveted, as though it had suddenly
and startlingly sprung into existence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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