By Malvika Gautam
“And here it is!” Dharmendra slowed down near the entrance. Stepping out of the vehicle, he dusted his white uniform and opened the door for my parents.
We gazed in awe at the fort standing altitudinous and proud on the Aravalli range which it was dominating from the day of its genesis. The fort’s colossal auburn walls stared down at me, daunting me with centuries' worth of history witnessed by it.
Our driver chatted excitedly about the beauty of his motherland and the rich culture and history every single leaf and stone in this charming city carried. There is a certain beauty, watching people talk about the things they are passionate about. The shine in the eyes, sudden shift in the body language and an overall flow of positivity radiating from them.
The afternoon sun pierced my eyes as I stared in awe at this marvel of architecture which strangely, felt familiar.
Amidst this, my mother held my hand and gently pulled me as my father had already begun for the ticket counter navigating amongst the bevy of tourists rushing to get their permits before the scorching heat forced them back to their vans.
Once inside, Dharmendra started right off the bat with facts, myths, and real occurrences of the fort— pointing at the paintings, inscriptions, and furniture used by the royal family of the time that were kept on display.
My family and I had walked the narrow staircases one behind another reaching various floors and rooms. Some open to visitors and others barricaded. Much to my baffle, I developed the sudden urge to touch everything I came across.
Following my gaze, my mother quickly put my hand down before I touched the glass case of an old painting.
“Dharam ji just told you not to!” She chuckled.
“Sorry.” I muttered, embarrassed at the number of eyes on me.
As we moved forward, I had an occasional sneak peek in every room, lightly brushing my fingertips against the surfaces to not offend anyone but also to satisfy my urge.
The human nature to do the forbidden is justifiable when the reward is a huge sense of satisfaction that’s achieved by performing the impermissible.
Millions before me did it; surely, I won’t be the last.
Reaching the end of the tour, we stopped for snacks and beverages.
With the recently gained knowledge and my own ingenious creativity, I conjured up vivid scenarios of a fictional queen who once resided within these fortress walls.
All the perils she faced and the perks she enjoyed— forgotten and missed in the annals of humanity.
Eventually when father returned with our food, my mother suddenly checked her fingers with worry.
“What happened, Amma?”
She looked around in distress. “I may have dropped my ring in one of the rooms!”
“I’ll find it.” The driver stood up immediately.
“No! —I mean—my daughter will search for it.” My mother said quickly. “She knows what it looks like, after all.”
I tried recalling the accessory on her hand.
“Gudiya may lose her way.”
“No worries, uncle ji I’ll be back,” I replied firmly and left the cafeteria before any objections.
Quickly making my way back inside against a tide of tourists who had called it a day, I racked my brains to picture the ring. Suddenly my memory was that of a goldfish because I struggled to recollect the item of importance. The thought of going back defeated and empty-handed mortified me. My parents and the driver sharing a shrug of disappointment thinking maybe we shouldn’t have sent this girl after all; jabbed me in my stomach. I summoned my remaining willpower and— stopped.
I guess Dharam ji was right because I almost immediately lost my way.
The cold, narrow stone corridor I stood in barely let two people stand side-by-side.
Sighting the only possible room at the end of the hall I made my way to it, to find the door slightly ajar.
Taking it as a positive sign, I pressed my fingertips against the obstruction and carefully snuck in without getting caught by the authorities.
Crediting this unrecognisable room to Dharam ji’s negligence I meandered through it nonetheless.
Apart from a painting of a royal couple, it held nothing of significance except for a window that was barred shut.
Deftly scanning the floor for the item yielded nothing but dismay. However my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to study the portrait.
The illustration depicted a man in a traditional angarkhaa kurta and white pyjama while the woman was in a red ghagra choli and a netted odhani. They gazed lovingly at each other like they had found their love.
After a minute of gazing at the portrait and its gold frame, I felt a magnetic tug.
Doused in silence and solitude, I figured it was my mind playing tricks on me.
A thin layer of dust on the portrait caught my eye. Without wasting another second, I pulled out my handkerchief from my jeans and wiped the faces of the loving couple.
“Ahh!” I yelped, dropping the cloth.
I stumbled back as a jolt of current struck me, grappling my body with a nauseating pain. My knees buckled and darkness clouded my vision.
********
When I felt consciousness trickling back from the timeless abyss that had trapped me in its embrace, I gasped and sat upright.
Amma is going to be furious!
I rubbed my eyes against the heel of my palm and blinked until I could see again.
The dimlit room was similar to where I was in the morning.
Feeling something coarse beneath me I squinted to find myself tucked in a bed.
But something did not feel right. Before I could investigate further, a pair of footsteps interrupted my thoughts. The door swung open revealing a maiden in a worn-out ghagra and blouse. The colours on it pale and faded as if it's been through multiple washes.
“Rani sa-- you are awake!” She scurried around the poorly lit room, frantically cleaning it.
I frowned in disbelief.
“Maharana ji was by your side the entire day waiting for you to open your eyes.”
“W-Who?” My lips trembled in fear as the weight of the situation was slowly setting in.
As ridiculous as it sounded, I had travelled back to the past!
Who did this woman think I was? Whos’ role am I supposed to play?
Must I keep up the charade of impersonating someone or do I come forth and reveal the truth? Will this truth cost me my life?
Someone knocked on the door.
The lady and I peered into the doorway devoid of light, but clearly, she knew who it was. She pulled the veil down her face and scampered out of sight.
In came a tanned man with a physique so herculean, hair swaying like the first silk of a young cocoon cascading down his neck and a mustache so prominent, it could sweep me off my feet.
Something about his primal rugged beauty stole my breath as I stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.
Kind eyes assessed my lean frame cautiously as he made his way to the side of my bed—sitting at a respectable distance.
With utmost care, he leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, tracing my jaw.
“You had me worried sick Aji, please don’t ever scare me like this. I cannot fathom you leaving my side, much less losing you forever.” His low husky voice reverberated pleasantly in me.
I felt guilty but saw only one way to go about this.
I had to play along.
“What had happened to me?” I whispered.
His brow arched in surprise.
“You don’t remember anything?”
I looked away remorsefully.
“This morning you fell unconscious in the pool by the garden and were unresponsive until now. I had the royal physician and the best doctors in this kingdom check you, but they came up with no conclusive result.” Maharana wrapped my hand between his and looked at me with unmasked concern.
“I have no memory of such events. Perhaps my health is taking a toll on me.”
I opted not to arouse suspicion by discussing my situation with him.
One could only wonder how a king would react to an imposter in the body of his beloved.
“Then I shall spend all night recounting everything you want to know.” The adonis gathered me in his arms and tenderly brushed his lips against my forehead.
As the night carried on the king narrated incidents involving ‘me’ and him. He then proceeded to explain the portrait on the wall that previously hadn’t come to my notice due to the low luminosity in the room.
“I had that commissioned for us, despite the objections from the court and society. My fair lady, even a thousand mixture of paints cannot do you justice.”
“Why were there objections?” I whispered in confusion, trying to remember my history lessons.
The king looked surprised for a moment but quickly regained his loving composure. “It is a rule to not paint the royal ladies, much less the Queen of this kingdom. They cannot have the outside world or strange men look at you, my precious flower. However I want the world to remember my Queen, because there could never be anyone like her. If only I could change the customs of this land, I would proudly show you to the world, my love. You are a beauty that should not be contained within these walls. Your aura and wisdom surpass any and I believe, the people would be grateful to be in your presence.”
My lips parted in awe at his words and the portrait.
It was the same one I had touched.
So that’s the solution!
I had to get in contact with the painting immediately. Every second spent with this man felt like an eternity robbed from his beloved—a woman lost in time as me.
My heart was heavy as lead, but decided to do the right thing.
Without prolonging further, I looked up at him with a mixture of emotions and asked,” Could you bring me a glass of milk?”
He nodded softly and was on his feet in an instant.
This was my only chance.
Before he reached for the door, I tugged at his wrist blinking my tears away.
“She who rules your heart is the wealthiest in all of trilok.”
“And in every lifetime, I would recognize her in a heartbeat.” Maharana smiled meaningfully.
I clutched my chest and breathed heavily.
Was it emotionally possible to feel connected to a person in an instant? Whatever the answer maybe in general, I’d found a new one for myself.
I had grown very fond of him and parting with a man I met today, suddenly became the toughest decision I had to take.
********
Met with the same nausea, I woke up drenched in sweat on the floor of the dusty old room with the portrait looking down at me dauntingly. Concussion, confusion and chaos danced in my head like the best trio they are.
I refused to linger in the room anymore.
Sprinting at a pace faster than my legs ever did, I exited the building to find my family by the entrance.
I came to a halt, huffing and panting before everyone. Putting my hands on my knees I caught my breath.
And glared at my mother.
“It was never about the ring, was it?”
By Malvika Gautam
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