The jungle had spent nearly two centuries reclaiming the temple. Sea winds drifting in from the Bay of Bengal had carried salt into its stones, banyan roots had crept into tiny cracks and slowly split sculptured pillars apart, while monsoon rains had washed away staircases where pilgrims once climbed with folded hands and whispered prayers….
Author: Trishikh
A well experienced artist and creative writer, with more than twenty years of experience in the field of communications and design for the social development sector, advertising, and public relations. Well versed with different designing software's and capable of grasping any new computer application. Have a fair amount of experience in product, commercial, event, locational and disaster photo and videography.
Waiting for Dusk
As Bhangarh Fort slowly surrendered its voice to the coming silence… The first thing Raghav noticed was that the peacocks had stopped dancing. For twenty years he had played the sarangi in the courtyards of Bhangarh Fort, and during every monsoon the peacocks arrived before the rain. They descended from the surrounding hills, spread their…
After the Kingdom
Where Warangal Fort remained standing after every throne had fallen… When a stone is young, it listens. At least that was what Rudra believed. His father had taught him so while shaping temple pillars from granite blocks beside the quarries east of Orugallu, the city later known as Warangal. Before every first strike of the…
When Stone Fell
The day Kangra Fort discovered that even mountains possess a breaking point… For most of his life, Pandit Narayan believed mountains were incapable of lying. Men lied. Kings lied. Chronicles lied. Even rivers lied sometimes, changing course without warning and abandoning settlements that trusted them. But the mountains endured. They stood where the gods had…
Footprints Against the Tide
Where Sindhudurg Fort trusted the sea to remember a king… The sea did not trust walls. Every morning before sunrise, the Arabian Sea arrived roaring against the black rocks where Sindhudurg Fort was rising stone by stone from the coast of Malvan. Waves smashed against unfinished ramparts with the fury of something insulted by human…
The March of a Capital
As Daulatabad Fort welcomed an empire that should never have marched… The order arrived in Delhi during summer, when even the shadows felt thirsty. By noon the stone streets outside the bazaars burned hot enough to blister bare feet while the Yamuna shrank sluggishly beneath clouds of flies and heat. Water sellers shouted through crowded…
Facing Forever
When Agra Fort became the keeper of a love that refused to end… Every morning before sunrise, Yusuf carried water through the sleeping corridors of Agra Fort while the fort still belonged to silence. That was the only hour he loved. Before the guards changed shifts. Before the cooks filled the palace kitchens with smoke…
Last Watch on the Ridge
By sunset tomorrow, the ridge would belong either to Kumbhalgarh… or to the dead. The thought lingered in Bhairav Singh’s mind as the last glow of the sun slipped behind the jagged shoulders of the Aravalli hills. Evening gathered slowly over Kumbhalgarh, filling the valleys with deep blue shadows while the highest ridges still caught…
Breathing Sand
Where Jaisalmer Fort slowly became part of the desert it resisted… Nobody inside Jaisalmer Fort ever trusted silence. Silence meant the caravans were late. Silence meant the desert wind had changed direction. Silence meant someone far beyond the dunes had died beneath the sun without water enough to scream. So the fort listened constantly. To…
The Price of the Wall
As Kumbhalgarh Fort learned what every great wall truly costs… The first body disappeared beneath the wall on a moonless night. No prayers were spoken. No funeral fire burned. No family received ashes in an urn wrapped in white cloth. By dawn the trench had already been sealed beneath stone and lime while labourers continued…
Weekend Stories by Trishikh 