"𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅."
Diya stepped towards me with her mobile in her hand, dressed in the white anarkali I had bought for her, its fabric flowing gracefully down to her ankles. The golden floral-embroidered white dupatta rested casually on both of her shoulders, its tiny, intricate flower designs shimmering across her chest like a stars on the white sky. Her medium length hair was left free with a centre clip. A few golden bangles adorned one of her wrists while her other wrist held her casual golden chain wrist watch. The jhumkas adorned her ears, the ear chains curving beautifully towards her hair.
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