This is first time that Divya has been out with her friends and classmates and that too so far away from her home, in India.
They are going to Kalingeshwar, an ancient place on a small island. They are divided into groups of five and each group has a separate camp. It is a completely new experience for Divya, for camping meant sleeping in tents and sharing the place with nature. It feels amazing and she is already jumping with excitement.
But much to her disappointment the teachers have already booked the hotel rooms which according to them are very safe.
“It’s cheating. They said we would camp. We have been duped.” Rakhi, a friend of Divya smirked.
The next morning, they start early and it takes only a few hours to reach the destination by bus. After having refreshments at a local eatery, they all set out for sight-seeing. They intend to return only by afternoon and that too for lunch. Everyone is carrying the necessary things with them.
While passing through the tribal area, they come across an ancient monument which is now in ruins. It seems that it has been neglected for years. Tall grasses have grown all over and it seems impossible for anyone to pass through them. Their guide stops them from entering there.
“No one ever visits there. It’s all crumbling down. Let us follow the route towards the famous 16th century fort,” The guide says with a smile.
Some students have already started entering the grasses when their teacher shouts at them,
“Let’s not venture to such dangerous places. It’s safe to follow the guide.”
This however means nothing to Divya. She has her mind elsewhere, in the ruins.
Divya loves to explore the unexplored areas. She quietly moves away from her group and makes her way into the tall dry grasses, not a hint as to where it would lead her.
The place though looks suitable for meditation, kind of an ashram almost hidden by the creepers grown all over. It had several sections, maybe for various purposes with a huge fireplace in the middle for performing ‘Yagna’ (sacred fire). There is a temple situated near to the fireplace. There is no idol but a huge ‘Shivalingam’ (symbol of Lord Shiva) at the centre. The walls are adorned with medieval era’s art and carvings. She begins to take photographs with her cell-phone. She is baffled as to why such a lovely historic place has been neglected for so long to result into ruins. After a while, she sits on a dais, tired of walking on uneven grounds, to rest for a while. The podium is too weak to bear her weight and it crumbles immediately. Her leg gets stuck in between the broken rocks.
“O, my god, somebody please help me!” she cries. “Help...Help…Help…!”
She soon realizes that she is all alone here and that no one will come for her rescue. She somehow with great deal and effort removes the heavy stones one by one and manages to free her leg.
PHEW! She gives a sigh of relief and thanks her stars.
Luckily, she is not hurt. While getting up, her shoe-buckle gets entangled in a thread. On pulling it, she finds it is a silken lace coming out of something wrapped in a red cloth. She doubtfully removes the cloth and opens it with a little hesitation. It’s a sort of book made up of palm leaves and loosely bonded by the delicate lace which was stuck to her shoe-buckle. It’s written in Sanskrit.
Much to her delight she had learnt Sanskrit from her grandpa when she was very young. She is sure she can make sense out of it, if read carefully. She carefully wraps it back making sure it doesn’t get torn and keeps it in her kit. She rests for some more time, looking at the serene surrounding, so peace, so calm. She comes to the spot where she had left her troop. Soon, she finds them returning and joins them.
“Where were you all this while?” asks one of her friends.
“Keep quite. I went to that ruined monument and found something. I’ll show that to you all in the hotel,” she replies
Once back in their hotel rooms, she shows it to her friends.
“O my, it looks very old, too old indeed.” One friend gasps.
“And this is in some other language. How will you read it? Better hand it over to some historian.” says another
“No, never! This is Sanskrit. I can myself read it.” Divya replies infuriated.
Divya tries and can read few lines. But, it takes a lot of effort to read those lines. Her friends start to find nothing interesting in it and get bored. Moreover, they are too tired to sit with so much patience. They find it rubbish as they do not understand anything. Divya keeps it back, quite dejected.
Later, in the night when others have gone to sleep, she tiptoes to her bag and takes out the old book and starts to read in the torchlight. But, the fear of her friends waking up and scolding her she puts it back in her bag and goes back to sleep.