I may just, though what do they call it - green thumbs? I have but two hands and not one between them.

[ She is a warrior and a Queen and a mother - but a gardener? No, she had other people in her employ for that.

Not that she ever didn't approve or appreciate it. Appreciated it for just as much an art as the paintings on her walls, or printed on her hands. A happy mystery she was glad to allude to. In summer, the flowers had been full enough that she could wear them in her hair every day, the thick smell of Jasmine like Diwali night itself. The wide open lotuses like Padmavati herself graced the courtyard pulls.

Was Jhansi's now, as he spoke, withered? When the British burned everything, did they flowers at least - grow back. Her husband's oasis in the desert. ]

Well, at least others can see to it then. If neither of us do.