In the outskirts of the heart of India, in Mumbai a seculaded place with number of people living their though they had variety of distinct lives.
Some people were not even aware of the outside world. There were places they have never imagined nor seen.
Amidst this place there was a forest.
The forest was an enigmatic world unto itself, cloaked in the impenetrable darkness of night.
Towering trees stretched their gnarled limbs skyward, their canopies forming an unbroken veil that blocked even the faintest glimmer of moonlight.
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, a rich, loamy fragrance that hinted at the secrets buried within the soil.
Beneath the tangled branches, the undergrowth was a labyrinth of twisted vines and thorny brambles, their shadows dancing like phantoms in the dim light.
The silence was profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of unseen creatures moving stealthily through the brush, and the distant call of a solitary owl.
Each sound seemed amplified in the stillness, echoing eerily through the dense foliage.
A narrow, winding path cut through the forest, barely discernible amid the overgrown vegetation.
It was a path seldom traveled, the ground littered with fallen leaves and twigs that crunched underfoot, the sound startlingly loud in the otherwise hushed atmosphere.
The trees loomed on either side, their ancient trunks cloaked in thick layers of moss and lichen, their bark rough and cold to the touch.
In this secluded realm, time seemed to stand still, the outside world a distant memory.
The forest was a place of shadows and whispers, a sanctuary for the wild and untamed, where the boundary between reality and imagination blurred.
It was a world that belonged to the night, and to venture deeper into its heart was to surrender to its mysterious and primal embrace.
Amidst all this chaos there was a car with jet black in color screaming loyalty through the roads in the forest travelling anywhere.
The lion symbol on the range rover symbolised the owner of the car who was right now driving the car with tension lines filling his forhead.
Resting one hand on the window of the car with the hand on his lips and the other hand on the steering wheel driving the car.
He was confused whether to stop the car or continue driving in this new found forest that was not less than a bhool bhulaiya.
He could not see even a single live soul till wherever his sight could reach and he knew that he is messed up.
He was left only with a car having fuel that is almost going to be finished and a phone whose battery was dead and last but not the least a gun in his coat for his own safety.
He was driving on the roads past an hour and could not find a way out here. He had came in forest to do a very important work. Now since the work has been finished He had to go back but he lost the track as the map was in his phone and his phone's battery got dead which was very rare for him.
