Mohini Ganase said yesterday that she shot and killed prison officer Robert Seecharan in self defence because she felt he was going to kill her mother Sherry-Ann Seecharan. She said Seecharan was...
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Elsa the Maharani
She was demure but exciting, elegant but playful as she knelt quietly while being serenaded by a suitor who was playing a flute. Her yellow ohrni and gold earrings sparkled. I smiled at her and she whispered: “Take me home with you.’’ I named her Karishma and she is now kneeling contentedly at the entrance to my drawing room.
The wooden carved figure belongs to a family of sculptures now living at the House of Jaipur on O’Connor Street, Woodbrook. I was sorry to separate Karishma from the boy on the flute, but I can only adopt so many adorable figures as I have space to keep and money to support.
But who knows, flute boy may be soon be relocating. Karishma is beginning to look a little lonely, notwithstanding the elephants with the embellished saddles and beautifully crafted tin trunks that keep her company in my humble abode.
The House of Jaipur is like an Indian bazaar minus the crowds, noise and haggling. I could spend half a day there, just fondling the floaty kaftans and the smooth curves of the wooden carvings and draping my neck in the silver and turquoise jewelry.
The place is like an oasis where you can visit with new friends to your heart’s content. No snooty sales attendant will scowl if you don’t buy anything. They like to see people drooling and enjoying the experience.