Sketching her Shadows

A Forgotten Sketchbook

Satya traced his fingers over the edges of the sketchbook, feeling the worn texture of its pages. It was a simple object, yet it carried an immense weight—the thoughts, visions, and emotions of the girl he had been searching for. Holding it felt like holding a part of her, something tangible in a journey that had so far been filled with fleeting glimpses and unanswered questions.

"If she left it here, she'll come back for it."

The thought gave him hope. He knew he couldn't let this opportunity slip away.

Without hesitation, he booked a room in a nearby hotel, making up his mind. He would wait.

Two Days of Anticipation

The next day, at exactly 4 PM, Satya returned to the same spot—the bench in front of Sheesh Mahal where he had found the sketchbook. The fort, as always, was alive with tourists, their voices echoing through the grand halls and stone corridors. But Satya remained still, his gaze scanning every face that passed.

He had no idea what he would say when he saw her. Would she recognize him? Would she feel the same strange familiarity that had gripped him ever since he started sketching her face?

"She has to come," he thought. "She wouldn't just leave something this personal behind."

But as the hours passed, hope began to wane. 7 PM arrived, and the fort started emptying. The golden hues of sunset faded into the deep purples of twilight, and still—she didn't come.

Disappointed but not discouraged, he decided to return the next day.

On the second day, he followed the same routine. 4 PM. The same bench. The same restless anticipation.

Every time someone lingered near the Sheesh Mahal, his heart raced.

"Is it her?"

But each time, it was just another tourist, another passerby with no connection to his past or present.

And then—at 6:45 PM, just as the daylight began to dim, he saw her.

Or at least, he thought he did.

A girl walked into the courtyard, her head turning from side to side as if she were searching for something. She had the air of someone who had lost something precious.

Satya's heart pounded. This was it.

He gripped the sketchbook tightly and stood up, ready to call out to her.

But as she stepped closer, the fading light illuminated her face.

And his heart sank.

It wasn't her.

The girl, though unfamiliar, approached hesitantly. Her eyes landed on the sketchbook in Satya's hands.

"Excuse me…" she said, her voice cautious. "That sketchbook… did you find it here?"

Satya stared at her in disbelief.

If this wasn't Saanvi… then who was she? And how did she know about the sketchbook?