Badal’s Leap

When Jhansi Fort witnessed loyalty rise higher than fear…

The first scent I ever knew was hers. Not milk. Not hay. Not the warm earth beneath my legs. Her. Even before my eyes learned the colours of the world, I knew the fragrance that arrived with her footsteps. Sandalwood. Leather. Freshly washed cotton. A faint trace of steel. Horses remember scents the way humans remember faces. That was how I first knew the woman the world would one day call Rani Lakshmibai. To me, she was simply the one whose hands never trembled. I was born inside the royal stables beneath the shadow of Jhansi Fort, where the wind carried the smell of sun-warmed granite, dry grass, and horses that had served generations of Bundela rulers. The fort stood upon a rocky hill, its thick stone walls rising directly from the earth as though the mountain itself had decided to become a fortress. Bastions watched every direction. Narrow gateways forced visitors to slow before entering. Cannons rested silently upon the ramparts, their bronze mouths forever staring toward distant horizons. Above all drifted the smell of stone. Old stone. Patient stone. Stone that had watched countless monsoons darken its walls before drying once more beneath the relentless Bundelkhand sun…


The stones were never silent. Long before they became monuments, they listened. They watched kings arrive and disappear, armies march, artists create, lovers part, gatekeepers wait, and ordinary lives unfold within extraordinary walls. History remembers the empires. The forts remembered everything else.

This story is part of my fifth published book, Empires Left in Stone – Twenty Short Stories from the Forts of India.

Across twenty stories inspired by twenty remarkable Indian forts, I have tried to reimagine the quieter lives that history rarely records. A forgotten attendant. A musician. A sculptor. A trader’s daughter. A horse. A caretaker. Even a ruined fort that remembers centuries of silence. Each story approaches history through a different voice, revealing not the spectacle of empire, but the humanity that lingered within its walls.

These are not historical reconstructions. They are literary journeys through memory, atmosphere, and imagination, inspired by real places that continue to stand across India long after the empires that built them have faded.

Leave a comment