Time Travel

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 49; the forty-ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
lady standing alone


In the dark of the nights on the deserted paths of Raghunathpur, a village in U.P, few men walked hurriedly talking in hushed voices.

"We need to finish the work before dawn," one said.

"Yes, we must hurry or we are dead."

They set out in earnest to finish the task as soon as they can. Urgency was evident on their faces and a bizarre quiet was spread among them. They finished the task an hour before sunrise and stood back to take a look at their work.

"You think her highness will be happy."

"Let's just hope so and pray to God. Let's go."

And they as quietly went away as shadows on the streets.

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As a BMW sedan ran on the dusty streets of Raghunathpur, the lady inside pulled down the glasses of her window. The driver thought it to be very odd, usually the women of her class would never come to a place like this and even if she does he has never seen any one put down the window glasses. Well, not until now. But it wasn't his worry. He knew better than to open his mouth and get killed. The lady on the back seat was dressed expensively and tastefully. She wore a Chanel skirt- top and Gucci high heels. Her cautious eyes were covered with D&G and on her sleek wrist lay proudly the Cartier. Each one of them exclusive to her. On a passing glance she looked like a film star, but one look at her posture, her attitude and the air of arrogance around her and anyone could tell she was more powerful than all of them put together.

"Your Highness, we are there," said the driver without turning his head and in a tone only she could here.

She nodded.

A sigh escaped out her delicate lips, she held her breath as the driver opened the door for her. As she set her first foot down on the land, a shiver ran down her spine. This was her land, a place where she was born but never belonged. Millions of memories gushed in filling her mind with memories. For few minutes she stood there rooted. Images from the past flashed in front of her eyes like a running movie. Nothing much has changed. She could very vividly see herself as a child running around wildly around the street, playing one thing or the others with her friends. She could see the mango tree and on it herself, stealing raw mangoes that she so loved. She could also hear the owner of the tree yelling and cursing her. She could clearly hear her giggles and that of her friends on every mischievous mission they made successful.

Her eyes fell on the lone standing house, her house. She could see herself standing on the door watching her father beat her mother to pulp for some money that he always spent on his drinking. She could still hear her mother's wailing, a sound that had haunted her nights. She could see her mother putting up a brave face for her and pretending nothing happened.  And she very well remembered the day she found her mother dead from her father's beating. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered how everyone stood on the door watching her cry but nobody came to help her.

She blinked her eyes rapidly to avoid tears from running down her cheeks. She had left back the little girl that she was long back when she ran away from her monster father. She had no idea where to go. She just needed to get away. She just traveled as long and as far as she could and then just stopped. She begged, borrowed and stole but it still was a far better life for her. And one day luck shone upon her. A man took her home. He gave her shelter, food, clothes and many things she never thought existed. He told her he was going to adopt her as his daughter. He told her he had been watching her for sometime now. He was in love with how brave she was. She flourished with all the love and affection he showered upon her. She loved how every one feared and respected him. She had seen him angrier than her own father but what she loved about him was he was never angry on her. It was when she was matured enough that she came to know that her father was a very powerful underworld leader. And still she loved him.

Her phone rang jolting her back to reality.

"Have you reached safely princess."

A slow affectionate smile spread on her lips.

"Yes father."

"Come back soon. I already miss you."

"I will. I miss you too."

She walked to the place near the rocks where she alone had buried her beloved mother. Overnight the grave of a poor lady had turned in to the likes of the queen. It was gorgeous, shining in the sunlight like a diamond. Looking at it she felt like Saphira of Eragon, who had the magical powers and with one of them she had turned the grave of Brom in to one as gorgeous as her mother's now, with just one touch.
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