I’m going through the Fiala Group proposal for Ranibagh. I have been at it since the crack of dawn. There’s nothing I can pick on, outside of the ‘minor structural changes’ they are suggesting, which I’m going to insist they clear with us, but I can’t stop reading and re-reading these papers.
This is my home. The noun Ranibagh Palace is in a bold font. Ranibagh and Palace are not words that collocate for me. I think of this most significant piece of real estate in my life as either Ranibagh or home; it isn’t a palace to me.
Father thinks of it as the seat of his throne, though not necessarily as home. For Grandfather, it was his land and the place he returned to every evening; it was where he lived and ruled from. Rawal Rathore Singh and his wife, Pavitra Hansa, also enjoyed Aranya Mahal, our country retreat, where they were frequent visitors in their younger days. They were both excellent marksmen. Some even say Grandmother was the better of the two.
I’m in the library, on the third floor of Ranibagh, not far from the royal suites. I ask for the curtains to be drawn on both sides of the room so that I can also use the morning light as I go through the papers. The bulbs in the room are bright, but I need all the assistance I can get.
At the other end of the room, Raj Kiran stands silently, watching me like the lines of books on the shelves. Now, almost three hours later, the sun’s rays fuller, I have studied the document in such detail I feel like I can recite it.
We have decided to lease a part of Ranibagh at my insistence. At the very least, I need to be sure that these papers are only rentals and not a sale deed. There can be no opening that could possibly drag us down that path.
This is the first time, since my ancestor built the first version of it for his beloved wife, Rani Rasleen, in the early 1700s, that Ranibagh, even in part, will be out of our hands.
I pull myself out of the lounge chair and walk towards the rectangular window that looks out at Jaipur. The city twinkles against the late-morning sun, the sloping roofs reflecting the light. In the distance is the monsoon sky, clear blue for now, but the colour will change. It is raining somewhere; it is in the air.
An image of Aaditha flits through my head.
Her hair flowing down her back like a river of black silk. Her lips, lush and defiant, belonged to me in a fleeting claim, leaving me aching with a longing I cannot get out of my mind.
She uses charming descriptors like ‘alien’ and ‘suffocating’ for my world, says she doesn’t have reason to believe in marriage, and maybe she doesn’t, but those eyes, there are moments when they call out to me.
Her laughter bubbles up even amidst the chaos of her (then) soon-to-open store.
When her employee collapses, she doesn’t hesitate. She sinks to the floor, holds her up with a fierce tenderness, and returns the next day, bearing gifts of fruits and chocolates. She’s stubborn and unapologetically sassy, unafraid to make her point, even if she has to shove an iPad in my face, daring me to respond.
My fingers are itching. I want to pick up the phone and message, ask the question, but that is not a question to be asked. I have lived long enough to know that. The answer is to be arrived at. In the next kiss, maybe.
My eyes click back to the print in my hand. I flip through the twenty-something pages before putting them aside.
I walk around the table and click on the desktop. I start researching the Fiala Group and their various arms around the world. Not because our legal team hasn’t looked into it but because I need to know every detail.
I run a few checks and see that the Czech group has tied up with anIndian extension – India Hotel and Resort Enterprise. There are a few distinguished names in the list of stakeholders of that company, but the major share is held by an entity called InspireDesign, on which there’s nothing at all on the net. I dial Ratan and ask him to get me a brief on InspireDesign.
Ratan calls me ten minutes later. ‘InspireDesign is owned by Prathap Gowda,’ he says.
I hear the air escape my mouth.
I turn my attention to the Aravallis; they stretch across the horizon like ancient sentinels guarding the desert’s edge.
I feel a shudder go down my spine.
Did Aaditha know about it?
There is no way Aaditha is in the know of whatever it is that her father is up to. That would be too easy, a set-up almost.
I walk around the table and flip through the pages of the morning newspaper, which I devour most days but have ignored today, when a headline catches my attention.
Karnataka Finance Minister Eyes National Stage Amid Rising Popularity
Bengaluru:
Karnataka’s Finance Minister, Prathap Vedaranya Gowda, has become the latest political figure to stir national buzz after a string of high-profile appearances and reform-driven policies that have drawn both praise and scrutiny. Known for his technocratic approach and sharp rhetoric, Gowda has recently been making moves that many within his party interpret as an indication that his ambitions extend well beyond the Vidhana Soudha.
In the last six months, Gowda has made keynote appearances in Delhi, Mumbai, and Hyderabad, speaking on fiscal decentralization and digital innovation in public finance. His flagship policy – ‘Namma Budget, Namma Future’, which introduced participatory budgeting and AI-assisted expenditure tracking in Karnataka – has garnered attention from economists and party strategists alike. Party insiders say Gowda is being positioned as the ‘modern face’ of southern leadership, potentially to play a larger role in shaping national economic policy – or even as a contender for a top cabinetportfolio in the event of a political realignment post 2026.
While Gowda remains coy about his intentions, he told reporters last week, ‘I serve Karnataka first, but I also believe the ideas born here can serve the nation.’ Whether this is calibrated modesty or a carefully scripted prelude remains to be seen, but one thing is clear: the political winds are shifting, and Gowda seems ready to ride them.
On a personal note, Gowda seems to have positioned himself well to get the strategic nod in the north. He is believed to have played conductor in daughter Aaditha Asha’s engagement to HRH Vedveer Rathore Singh, the crown prince of Jaipur. The Rathores are not just India’s most landed royal family; they are even the most influential.
