I was enchanted by the beauty of the fort, it intrigued me. I just couldn't figure out why but it felt like home. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I was fascinated by the history of my ancestors and it had become the main subject of my daydreams.
My thoughts were filled with all kinds of "what if's ...?". What if we were still living like the people of the past, would I be a princess or someone near about? Would I be living in a palace? What kind of dress would I have worn? A lehenga, choli, or a sari ... what kind of jewelry?
These questions had been deeply embedded into my brain since childhood courtesy all the stories told to me by my grandma. The stories she told created a magical world of heroism, of deeds great and kind and even the villains had glamour in them.
It all resulted in me being passionate about the museums, forts, and all kinds of old ruins. Whenever I heard anything related I would make sure that I didn't miss out on even a single fact and finds about that place. Even if there was an abandoned old ruin standing in the middle of the field which no one cared about, I was there for it.
Who would have come out of that door or who would have stood by that window or what did that person see... what were the thoughts... what was their daily lifelike? These were all my favorite questions.
My mom would scold me, to stop daydreaming. But then I had always wanted to be an archaeologist. To discover the secrets of the civilizations gone by. My parents were very supportive of my dreams, which one could easily make out just by looking at the room full of books I had on the civilizations of the world. It was a blissful life full of hopes and aspirations.
Then disaster struck, I lost my parents in a car accident. It was a nightmare I still dread to think about. Life had turned topsy-turvy. The court had ordered for me to be put in an orphanage run by an NGO. I had just turned fourteen and was not legally eligible to stay on my own. It's not that my parents had not left me money, but seeing that I had no relatives to look after me, I had to stay in the safety of the orphanage till I reached the age of 18. It was only after that that I could legally acquire the possessions left to me by my parents.
Coming to the present, I was here on a small tour organized by the NGO named "Asha" for the senior girls of the orphanage in Jaipur. Mrs. Veena was the person in charge. She was a motherly figure and having no kids of her own would pamper us. We in return loved her too and respected her.
I had faltered behind, wanting to see everything in great detail. I wanted to touch all, the walls, the motifs, the carvings. I wanted to absorb it all, leave no corner undiscovered. I took photographs, taking it all in through the digital camera I had.
I came around to a secluded passage, which seemed to lead towards what I had heard was the ladies' section of the palace. As I passed by, I saw a small door by the stairs which should actually have been locked, just like all the other forbidden entrances to keep the public out. Seeing no lock present, it was temptation enough for me to see what lay behind. Could it have been used as a cupboard, a door, a window, or what? Curiosity got the best of me.
I looked around to see if anyone was watching me. After making sure that no one was around I pried it open slowly. It seemed like a small deep alcove in the wall, big enough to hold a box. My first thought was that it must have been a storeroom of sorts where they kept their trunks. I was surprised to see the outlines of a door on the other side.
As I peered in for further inspection I heard voices coming from the end of the passage, my friends from the orphanage were coming towards me. A plan to scare them formed in my head. I hid inside the alcove and closed the door. I waited with bated breath for them to come closer.
Suddenly a ringing sound buzzed in my head and I started feeling claustrophobic. I moved my hands towards the door feeling panicked and breathless wanting to get out fast. Blackness engulfed me as I touched the door.
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