Behind the times

                                                                               

                     

We walked up the lane ahead, reaching out towards the main building, the main fort. And what we realised was that that was what it was. The entire town was there. Inhabited. There was too much vibrance and colours to take in all at once. Go right and there’s the town for the Brahmans, go left and you’ll see the town for the Rajputs. And there we stood, in the middle of the forked pathways leading to two different cultures and religions which were being followed since ages. Perfectly and exactly like the old times, intact, unlike their little damaged and desecrated houses with ancient, half broken and cracked wooden doors which would always stay open as if one is always welcomed. 

The buildings were same old same old. Just like what we see in the movies. There was a man playing a very beautiful instrumental music just as we entered the door for the town. And just as we entered, it seemed as if we time travelled to the medieval days when the common people would live within the boundaries of the fort. There were markets, shops for clothes, jewellery, textiles, crafts, food. The only people missing were the kingsmen guarding the fort. The air was so beautiful and warm and the music playing in the background made us feel so ardently invited to this little home of theirs with big open hearts. 

The place was full of people dead and alive but brimmed with warm air all around. We wondered if the bygones were still watching us visiting their homes where now their descendants lived, if they still did the work of their quotidian lives being lifeless. There were so many eyes, dead and alive, watching us travelling through their streets and markets. However, what we could see was the living watching us visiting their homes. That place had so much life in it but only a few souls. That place had so much life in it as if the lives of all the generations were there to welcome us.