TARA : Beyond The Time ( Under Editing)

time travel

"Time is but a river, carrying destinies adrift-,some struggle against its current, while others are swept into the unknown. But only the bold dare to rewrite fate itself."

Edited on 15/02/25

Tara's pov

I was sitting in my cab, on my way to a newly discovered archaeological site, lost in thoughts about my life. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the blur of passing scenery seemed to echo my tumultuous journey.

Once, I was a girl full of mischief, running around my house, living in a world no less then a fairytale everyone dreams of. My life was  picture of a sweet, happy family. My parents, always supportive and loving, encouraged my every whim. My childhood was filled with laughter,  adventures, and dreams of exploring the world.

But when my parents died in a plane crash, reality of the crual work hit me like pieces of broken mirror. The mischievous girl, I used to be, was lost somewhere in the aftermath of grief and loss.

It was my 13th birthday when it happened. My parents were returning from business trip and we were supposed to celebrate together, but instead, I was left with the heartbreaking news. It was like world come crashing down on me all together but  thanks to my grandmother, I was able to overcome the tragedy and become who I am now. She was my rock, providing the love and stability I so desperately needed.

My mother always told me, "Everything happens for a reason." Back then, I never questioned it, i just believed her.

But when I lost my parents , those words felt cruel, like an empty consolation for something that had no justification. I spent years wondering what possible reason there could be for taking them away from me.

And just when I started to find my footing again, life took my grandmother too, the only family I had left. At 18, standing alone in a world that no longer felt like home, I finally understood. It wasn’t about fate having some grand plan or offering me something better in return. It was about shaping me, forcing me to stand on my own, no matter how much it hurt. It was about learning to survive, to keep going even when everything inside me screamed to stop.

Maybe things do happen for a reason. Or maybe we just find our own reasons to keep moving forward. Either way, here I am, alone, but stronger than I ever thought I could be.

However, a lingering feeling of loneliness remained in my heart, a quiet ache that never truly faded. No matter how much I tried to be strong, there were moments when the silence around me felt heavier than ever.

Perhaps that’s why I’ve always been drawn to historical monuments. Ever since childhood, they have fascinated me, their towering structures, the whispers of stories carved into their walls, the weight of time they carried. In their silent grandeur, I found a strange kind of comfort, as if they, too, had stood the test of loss and loneliness, yet remained standing.

After my parents' death, there is hardly a palace, archaeological site, or ruin I haven't visited. Being in these places makes me feel at peace, like I truly belong. The quiet, the history, the stories hidden in the walls—they make me feel safe, almost at home. For a little while, the loneliness fades, replaced by a simple, comforting joy.

Today, I was on my way to visit a newly discovered archaeological site. It's said that they found many artifacts estimated to be from the early 15th century. With the help of my father's best friend, who is an archaeologist, I managed to secure a visit to this site. The anticipation of seeing the remnants of a bygone era filled me with excitement and curiosity.

"Here you are," sanjay uncle, my late father's best friend, said with a warm smile as I stepped out of the cab. He had taken care of me since my parents' death, almost like a second father.

"Tara, listen carefully," he said, his tone turning serious. "No outsider is allowed here, but I'm allowing you because of your constant requests. Please be careful, and if anyone asks why you're here, just say you're my family visiting me, okay?" I nodded in response, feeling a mixture of gratitude and excitement as I started exploring the site.

I wandered around, marveling at the ancient artifacts and structures. The site was a treasure trove of history, filled with intricately carved statues, crumbling walls, and objects that offered glimpses into the lives of those who once lived here.

Then, my eyes landed on a cave-like structure. It stood apart from the rest, dark and mysterious, almost calling out to me. My uncle had warned me not to touch anything, but curiosity tugged at me, stronger than my caution. Before I knew it, my feet were moving toward it.

I stepped into the cave, ignoring my uncle’s warnings. It was dark, yet a bright ray of light streamed in through a crack in the wall, strangely bright, considering it was already evening.

Just as I was about to explore further, the ground beneath me trembled. At first, I thought it was an earthquake, but nothing around me shifted, no falling rocks, no distant rumbling. Yet, the uneasy sensation only grew stronger, crawling up my spine.

Something felt off.

Deciding not to take any chances, I turned to leave. But before I could take a step, the ground seemed to slip away from beneath me. I lost my balance and fell backward, straight toward the crack of light.

I closed my eyes in fear as everything around me faded into darkness. The sensation of falling overwhelmed me, my heart pounding in my chest. Then, suddenly, the fall stopped.

The last thing I remembered was landing against something firm and steady, something that broke my fall. But I didn’t get to see what it was, my eyes remaining tightly shut. Then, before I could make sense of anything, everything went blank.

When I woke up, I found myself in a strange tent. A dull ache spread through my body, making even the slightest movement difficult. My surroundings felt unfamiliar—everything looked different, smelled different. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and incense, and the tent was adorned with objects I didn’t recognize.

Panic crept in. What had happened? Where was I? Where was my uncle?

I was still lost in my thoughts when the tent’s entrance shifted, and someone stepped inside. It was a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a gentle presence. She studied me for a moment, her gaze filled with curiosity and concern.

__________AUTHOR'S NOTE_____________

I will be using different font style to show language barrier such as 'bold for English' , 'Italian for when characters speak to themselves' and normal font will will be taken as hindi/language of 15th century.