Nahan that exists only in memories now

My home in Upper Street in Nahan was like a tall sentinel in the neighbourhood. The skies were a kingdom for kites, soaring high above the distant spire of Mia Mandir and the verdant expanse of Rani Tal. This was the Nahan of my memories, a town whose very air was infused with the fragrance of Gulmohar and Maulshree, standing tall along its serene, traffic-free lanes leading past the building of Shamsher High School.

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Each footstep on the cobbled streets felt like a waltz with yesteryear. History resided in its grand landmarks: the majestic Delhi Gate, a portal to a bygone era, and the old City Palace, watched over by its eternal guardians in stone — one lion ever vigilant, the other lost in tranquil dreams perhaps.

The town's jewel in the crown was Rani Tal, its placid lake cradling the sacred Shiv Temple. The town’s very heartbeat was the ancient rhythm of Gafoor Khan’s dhol, a sound that wove a symphony of faiths into one magnificent existence. These all exist in the memories now.

Manica Tomar, Nahan