The city of Bhangarh which once laded a kingdom has now been rendered as a pile of broken rocks, cracked structures and nothing but silence and loneliness all around. City which once chirruped owing to innumerable people and roared being ruled by valiant emperors has turned as lifeless as a long forgotten crypt. Enveloped by an abominable lull and an atmosphere of horror and mystery.
We stepped into the fort through a gate which was made between a long and high walled boundary, resembling the famous Great Wall of China. The ends of the wall could not be seen as they spread till eternity. Beyond the entry was a guided granite stoned path which went through like a corridor between historical ruins. The ruins of which once was the main bazaar or market of the city. This quite long path ended on a much higher and larger gate. Inside the gate was vast open grassland. On the left were some wilderness, a tomb and a pond; on the right was a temple.
Temple which was decent sized but, was mounted on a very high base. One had to climb around 50 stairs to reach to that height. The temple being historical was a simple stoned temple with no glittery idols, jewellery or decorations. It had a bell and some carvings on the wall. It very much resembled the stereotypical temples shown in Hindi movies and soaps.
On the front was the main building of the fort which was as high as the mountain behind it. Apparently only the lower three floors of the fort have remained. The top four floors have fallen off. The view from the third floor of the fort was immensely beautiful, serene and tranquil. With no human encroachment to be seen. The limits of the view extended beyond the boundaries of the city till infinity. On the right side, above the fort, on the mountain, was a small tomb which is the home to the tantric’s grave who cursed the once lively city of Bhangarh. It is believed that no one can go to that tomb. And whoever does, does not return.
The story of this tantric named Singhia is also a bit peculiar. The tantric was is love with the eighteen years old princess of Bhangarh, Ratnavati. When she was to get married, the tantric got to know that he cannot even see her, let alone meet her. The desperate tantric casted a spell on the oil being bought by the princess’ maid for her, so that she would get mesmerized by him and would marry him. However, the princess got to know about this and poured the oil on a rock. The rock rolled towards him and crushed the tantric to death. While Singhia was dying, he cursed the palace with the death of whoever dwelt within it. Soon after Ratnavati died in a war and the city was doomed. People also have said to see the princess’ spirit moving in the fort, in the night.
It was already beyond sunset when we reached this point and since it is not to be populated by visitors after 6pm, the fort commenced to get evacuated. We hid in to escape ourselves from getting caught and to stay there after dark. We somehow managed. After the tourists left, some people and priests gathered to perform some ritualistic proceedings and to chant mantras to bless the fort and to stop the prophecy from harming anyone. Everyone gathered at a small worship spot next to the wilderness.
Amidst of these terror filled proceedings were the beautiful peacocks which flew ecstatically from one tree to another, mewing incessantly. Hearing them carefully, one could compare their sound to someone’s screaming. And as it has been evident from the past, people have, many times, been fooled because of their mewing. Mesmerized by the beauty of these peacocks, the sound of chanting mantras and chirruping of the birds which returned to their nests after a tiring day, everything seemed to get slow. With time, everything got silenced and paused.
We sat under a tree and it got darker and darker. Fretting the hooligan monkeys, we talked of every random thing, got pictures clicked and also met another group of people who had come from Delhi for the same purpose and planned to stay there at night. We didn’t even realize when it turned completely dark. It was around 9 in the night. And we had no food or water with us. Our thirst and hunger forced us to move out of the fort. Though we did not encounter any unusual happening and reacted rationalistically, there was still an aura of arcane in our minds. Something which could be seen from our sixth sense. Mystery still prevailed and atmosphered our minds.
As we moved out of the gate, darkness appeared to get a little less. The moon shined in full mood above the haunted and silenced hills of Bhangarh. The white light seemed to bandage the pained history of the cursed city. The granite path of the bazaar, through which we entered, reflected the twilight and our path shined. To our much surprise the path ended at a god’s idol resurrected at the main gate of the fort. The small tomb in which the idol was placed was lit with earthen lamps and smelled of burning incense sticks. The god’s idol too radiated an essence of horror and terror.
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