Chapter 4: The Temple of the Wind
1036 Words
Aarav barely had time to react before the monkey darted up a tree, his backpack dangling precariously from its tiny hands. Meera doubled over, laughing as Aarav waved his arms frantically.
"Arrey bhai, yeh koi Tarzan ka chhota bhai hai kya? Wapas la, yaar!" Aarav groaned.
(Translation: "Brother, is this Tarzan's little brother? Give it back, man!")
The sadhu at the ashram’s entrance chuckled, watching the scene unfold. "Beta, yeh bandar bhi jaanta hai ki asli khazana tumhare paas hai. Tumhare paas jo hai, wo aam cheez nahi."
(Translation: "Son, even the monkey knows you hold a real treasure. What you have is no ordinary thing.")
Aarav took a deep breath, glancing up at the monkey that now inspected the manuscript peeking from the bag. "Meri poori zindagi ka safar ek bandar ke haathon barbaad ho raha hai," he muttered.
(Translation: "My entire life's journey is being ruined by a monkey.")
Meera clapped her hands together. "Aarav, let me handle this."
She grabbed a banana from a nearby offering plate and held it up. "Aaja bandar raja, yeh lo!" she cooed.
(Translation: "Come, monkey king, take this!")
The monkey c****d its head, momentarily intrigued. After a few seconds of intense consideration, it dropped the bag, snatched the banana, and leapt away.
Aarav quickly grabbed his backpack and checked inside. The manuscript was still intact. "Bas ek bandar se harne wale the hum," he muttered, shaking his head.
(Translation: "We were about to lose to a monkey.")
The sadhu smiled knowingly. "Chalo, abhi waqt nahi hai hansne ka. Tumhe nikalna hoga."
(Translation: "Come, now is not the time for laughter. You must leave.")
---
The journey to the Himalayas was long and exhausting. The air grew thinner as Aarav and Meera climbed higher, the path winding steeply along the mountainside. Snow crunched under their boots, and their breath misted in the icy air.
According to the manuscript, the Temple of the Wind was hidden deep within these peaks, known only to an ancient order of monks who once guarded the Akash Sutra’s secrets.
"It should be just ahead," Aarav said, rubbing his gloved hands together for warmth.
Meera squinted at the snow-covered ruins barely visible through the swirling mist. "And what if it isn’t?"
Aarav shrugged. "Then we're in the wrong place."
Just as he spoke, a deep, whispering sound carried through the wind, almost like a chant. The ground trembled slightly beneath their feet.
Meera’s eyes widened. "Did you feel that?"
From behind a ridge, a figure cloaked in white emerged, his piercing gaze locking onto them. His presence was almost ghostly against the snowy backdrop.
"You seek what must remain lost," the monk said solemnly. "But fate has already chosen your path. The Sons of Rudra are coming. You must enter the temple before it's too late."
Meera exchanged a worried glance with Aarav. "Hum pehle se hi kisi Bollywood thriller ke andar hain, hai na?" she whispered.
(Translation: "We're already inside a Bollywood thriller, aren't we?")
Aarav smirked. "Bas background music ki kami hai."
(Translation: "Only the background music is missing.")
There was no time to argue. The distant echo of hurried footsteps and urgent voices carried through the wind. The Sons of Rudra were close.
The monk turned swiftly and motioned for them to follow. Aarav and Meera hesitated only for a second before chasing after him, stepping into the unknown.
---
Inside the temple, the air was eerily still. Golden torches lined the ancient stone walls, their flames flickering against intricate carvings that told stories of forgotten times. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the occasional drip of water echoing through the cavernous halls.
Meera shivered, rubbing her arms. "Bhoot bangla jaisa feel aa raha hai. Kahin koi horror twist toh nahi hone wala?"
(Translation: "This feels like a haunted house. Are we about to have a horror twist?")
Aarav huffed. "Bas abhi zombies ya naagmani wali chudail aur mil jaye toh mazza aa jaye."
(Translation: "If we find zombies or a cursed witch looking for a magical gem, then it'll be perfect.")
The monk led them deeper, finally stopping before an enormous door covered in symbols. He turned to face them.
"The Akash Sutra’s truth lies beyond this door. But knowledge comes with a price. Are you ready?"
Aarav exhaled sharply. "Agar ab wapas lautna chahein toh?"
(Translation: "And what if we want to turn back now?")
The monk’s expression didn’t change. "Woh samay guzar chuka hai."
(Translation: "That time has passed.")
Meera looked at Aarav. "Mujhe na, bahut strong intuition aa raha hai ki yeh ekdum filmy hone wala hai."
(Translation: "I have a very strong intuition that this is going to be extremely dramatic.")
Aarav took a deep breath. "Toh chalo, hero banne ka time aa gaya."
(Translation: "Then let’s go, it's time to be the hero.")
He placed his hands on the stone door and pushed. It groaned open, revealing a dark chamber beyond.
As they stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind them.
Meera turned around sharply. "Arre! Yeh kya tha?!"
(Translation: "Hey! What was that?!")
The monk’s voice echoed behind them. "Aage sirf woh ja sakta hai jo sacchai ka saamna kar sake."
(Translation: "Only those who can face the truth may proceed.")
Aarav felt a chill run down his spine. The chamber ahead was vast, its walls lined with shelves stacked with ancient scrolls. At the center stood an ornate pedestal, and atop it rested something wrapped in layers of silk. The atmosphere was thick with a strange energy, an almost tangible force that made the air feel heavy.
Meera took a hesitant step forward. "Agar hum yeh utha lein toh koi purani shraap wali kahani toh nahi activate ho jayegi, na?"
(Translation: "If we pick this up, we won’t accidentally activate some ancient curse, right?")
Aarav smirked nervously. "Agar aisa hua, toh main keh raha hoon—bhag ke jaane ke alawa koi aur option nahi hoga."
(Translation: "If that happens, I’m telling you—running will be our only option.")
The flames of the torches flickered wildly for a moment, as if the temple itself had responded to their presence.
A shadow moved in the darkness.
The hunt had truly begun.
- Writer
